sits on a bench across from the
pharmacy—bent, wrapped in dark
from toe to crown, a shriveled olive.
Suddenly she lunges toward a turnstile
set between outside the drugstore and in.
Auto-piloting down one of the mall’s pathways,
caught in cobwebs of thought, I realize we
are heading for the same point
about to collide.
As I downshift to let her pass, she
opens the barrier for a very pregnant
young woman floating in a blur of packages.
How fleet this ancient and how derailed
I am left without a good deed to do.
Bob Findysz was born in Chicago but moved to the suburbs before first grade. After finishing graduate work at the University of Chicago, he avoided one war zone (Vietnam) by choosing another (the Mideast). Married with three grown children and nine grandchildren, Findysz settled on a kibbutz in Israel a few decades ago and spent 40-some years teaching Israeli high school and university students English as a Foreign Language. On periodic leaves-of-absence he has explored other pursuits (from academic counseling to agriculture), traveled extensively, and studied as a way of life.
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