100 Days of Gladness: Day 24
It was just before Christmas.
The sky was not having it.
It smashed glasses of sleet down on the pavement,
opened fire hydrants of rain, smacked us with wild,
yowling gusts of wind. You had to hold on to your cart
to keep from blowing away in the parking lot.
Inside Costco, we scrambled around with lists.
We crossed items off, one by one. Then, pushing
our heavy loads, we made a mad dash for
the checkout stands where we waited
in crawling, torpid, endless lines so long
you might fall asleep on your feet
waiting.
I was at the beginning of this mess,
in the electronics aisle
comparing prices, sizes, stats —
when suddenly
a massive sigh of exoneration
heaved through the building
and the lights went out.
And not just the lights, either.
The cash registers, the hum of the heaters,
every machine in the whole building.
