Old, old.
.
So old we pad through the supermarket
using the shopping cart as a cane that steadies us.
.
I'll wait at register two in my green sweater
with threadbare elbows, smiling
because you've forgotten the bag of day-old pastries.
.
The cashier will tell me a joke about barbers as I wait.
He repeats the first line three times
but the only word I understand is barber.
.
Over the years we've caught inklings
of our shrinking frames and hunched spines.
.
You're a little confused
looking for me at the wrong register with a bag
of almost-stale croissants clenched in your hand.
.
The first time I held your hand it felt enormous in my own.
Sasquatch, I teased you, a million years ago.
.
Over here, I yell, but not in a mad way.
.
We're laughing.
You have a bright yellow pin on your coat that says, Shalom!
.
Senior Discount, you say.
But the cashier already knows us.
We're everyone's favorite customers.
Ali Liebegott | "Senior Discount".
.
