to a better place

in the glimmer
of abundant shine
and lights you
see
the plain
clothes men
going through
the deep pockets
of an old
woman's coat.
they take out
a can of
tuna. a jar
of beets.
a small box of
uncle ben's
wild
rice. she's
resisting,
trying to run,
but they have
her by
the collar. i
used to
work for
roosevelt, she
says.
i know people.
you can't do this
to me.
but off she
goes.
you see her in
the back of a squad
car.
and when she looks
at you, passing
by with your
groceries, she
smiles
and winks.