Man, Buying a Honeybaked Ham

I saw it all—

Every step and bit of the transaction,

How he walked with deep reverence,

Approaching the ham-stocked glass case

As a worshipper approaches an altar.

He stood,

Awed by the riches corded there—

A spilled cornelia of meats,

Whose beauty tried, in vain, to obscure

All links to a previous, porcine life.

Raising his eyes to the priceboard menu,

The man trod the ancient path

Of all who have gone to market,

Weighing on his mind’s scale

The savoring of the luscious meat, and

The great price set by the butcher.

I saw it all—

How he made up his mind,

His decision freighted with doubt,

How he almost balked

When the digital scale signaled: too high—

How he quilt quarreling with himself,

Said that he was done, and

Credit card in hand,

Moved to the checkout stand.

--December 19, 2013