at the acme

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I picked up a grocery list someone left in their cart. 

The last item was, don’t forget the love, 

next to a drawn heart. 

Reading that line a feeling unfolded 

in me that love’s red thread runs through 

all things. 

So I watched to see it in action

and there it was, a father, arms heavy 

with groceries stopping to make funny faces 

to soothe his crying child. 

A man, hands shaking with age being helped 

by a young woman to bag his peaches. 

And, a voice in my head said

that love was a doing, a moment shared 

not based on schemes or profit or discourse. 

Love has its own discourse in the heart.

Oh, I know the risks, how love can explode 

in our face like gunpowder. How its quixotic 

riptides push us to make hurried declarations. 

Or like a crowbar it can pry our heart open 

against our will. But now, here at the checkout 

line I want to add it as a major food group—

tuck it in my bag along with the paper towels, 

carrots, and peas.