My Best Day

She came to me when I brought in carts and she was filling online grocery orders. I gestured to her and handed her a poem just written the other day, but I just had to share it with her line and verse. It was a day in April when a grove of trees were in full bloom and the air full of promise. I took a poetic leap although it felt as if I’ve loved her for years. She clenched my paper in her hand said she’d read it during lunch. I told her to read between the lines then read it again. Others left the break room when we sat together and a moment of silence said more than I ever could. I was retired from my job of traveling and controlling traffic for work crews in other states and learning to live again while she now working full-time after divorce. And four months earlier she asked me if I was staying. In the break room the moments we shared when I offered her some extra food passed with a whisper and an hour later someone in customer service said I had to clear a spill in an aisle where she stood— she asked for me.