ON THE LINE

No amount of swiping 
coaxed money from the card,
the card she insisted held $150. 
The cashier, calm and kind,
tested the card over and over 
until they had to agree:
no money no groceries.

The woman apologized 
to the cashier,
to the line of customers,
a line that snaked halfway 
down a long aisle, 
no one huffing or puffing 
or complaining 
except to wonder why 
only one register was open
on a late Monday morning.

I’m so embarrassed
her parting words.

The cashier flipped the belt switch.
The air fizzed again 
with the buzz of business.
A woman next in line 
asked the cashier
did that happen often.
First week of the month, he said,
the cards sometimes don’t work.

So this wasn’t just some credit card mishap.
This was a broken lifeline. 

That must have been hard for you, I said 
as I watched my credit card pass muster.
Patience, I’ve found the secret to patience,
the philosopher-cashier said,
don’t anticipate.
His reply not what I expected.

At home with cupboards restocked
my questions lingered:
What about the ones 
who will go hungry tonight?
If I had been next in line, 
could I have covered her bill?
Would I have?

Emily-Sue Sloane is an award-winning poet who writes to capture moments of wonder, worry and human connection. Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals, anthologies and magazines, as well as on WNYC’s Morning Edition in celebration of National Poetry Month. Her poem “Musical Musing” is featured in a choral piece of the same name by composer Joan Johnson Drewes. Sloane is the author of full-length collection We Are Beach Glass (2022) and chapbook Disconnects and Other Broken Threads (The Poetry Box, 2024). She lives in Huntington Station, NY, with her wife, singer-songwriter Linda Sussman. Please visit her website: https://EmilySueSloane.com