small hand in my hand,
and chatted with the kid,
who agreed we MUST have kale for chips
and begged for honey sticks.
Today as we meandered crowded aisles of grains and greens,
overflowing crates of yellows and reds,
I watched the people who picked this food-
soon to be piled on our plates-
watched as they chatted and smiled about the food they knew,
like a child they’d raised.
Today as I peered into the overfilling basket hung on my arm,
I knew the extra minutes it was taking to gather our meals,
the extra minutes it would take to chop and simmer,
the waiting time for rising and kneading,
would always be worth more than any minute or dollar I might save.
Today I walked slowly.