5 August 2019

What is enough? When will it be enough?

I hang heavy towels to dry, comforted by the soughing of the wind in the Box Elders. A tiny pair of shorts, a tiny pair of underpants, a trio of ancient threadbare cloth diapers used now for damp mopping floors: these will dry in the space of an afternoon. I will bring them in at dusk, fold them, put them away. I will order things. I will make order.

I drove my children to the grocery store today. They sat beside each other in the cart. They ate free grocery store cookies and looked at the lobsters and the crabs in their tanks. I palmed apples and sniffed peaches and wondered:

is it safe to go to the grocery store?

Is this a question anyone, anywhere should ever have to ask?