A very fine boy he is.
Tall and lanky with dark hair.
He owns a smirky teenage smile while he bags all the customer’s groceries.
I casually glance at him and study his movements as I stand in line.
Mother pays the exact amount and puts her purse in the cart.
As we stroll away I turn to glance at the handsome grocery boy one last time.
Automatic doors open and a bluster of freezing air clings to our faces.
It’s the middle of January and everything is bleak and covered in white.
Hurried shoppers rush in and out of the parking lot.
Stocking up and preparing for winter’s worst storm.
Mother and I pack our goods in the car and close the hatch.
I take our cart and attempt to return it, struggling against the slushy sleet covering the concrete.
Grocery boy is approaching me.
His little grocery boy vest is waving rapidly in the winter wind.
I push the cart over to him.
He flashes me a slightly seductive and mysterious grin.
I can’t help but to admire the beautiful shiny bits of glittery snowflakes resting ontop of his dark hair.
That’s all he said.
I smile with blushing warm cheeks and make my way back to the car.
I silently beat myself up as I walk against heaven’s white confetti.
Wondering why I never thought once about reading his nametag.
Handsome strangers make good poems but nothing more.