OH LOOK AT YOU O CHERRY THROAT

In supple hands the day seems to swell.
Authored light, a blanking out in supermarkets
overtook her – made the partition walls clatter,
jars rolling, a sadness overtook her –
a sudden awareness of tins, ringing out
heroic chimes, a melancholy overtook her –
a clamouring of bags in the freezer section,
pressed produce against glass, a hysteria overtook her –
a moment pressing veg against flesh and praying the day
wouldn’t break, all manner of thing overtook her.

Like chilled water to the nape
of her neck, the icy clatter of trolleys brings her back
into the space. She had released the red plastic
bar and the momentum just carried the thing along,
crashing to a halt somewhere in the mid-distance.