shopping

i see her
in the grocery
store, she might
be eighty, or less,
and weighs about
the same,
so hard to tell
in her long
coat, her pink
dress, her sunday
hat with a wide
tipped brim. i
watch her as she
puts another can
of tuna into her
large white
purse that hangs
on her shoulder.
then a can of
olives, an onion
too slips from
her hand into
the mouth of
the bag. she works
the aisles while
pushing her cart,
small things
go down into
the bag,
and she doesn't
mind that i see
her, no smile, no
nod, just a blank
look of please
don't tell.
and when they
come for her at
the last row
of produce and
breads and they put
the cuffs on her
she begins to
cry. nothing is
said, there is
no scream, nothing.
they just take her
away, the bag
still on her
shoulder.