Grocery Love Poem

Bins of rice, beans, and nuts
lay open in the stores.
I knew their contents were forbidden,
but their cool weight
forming against my hand
like a second smooth
skin,
like water with no wet
was too much...

I'd wait 'til no one
was watching
and dive my hand
into the pinto beans.
My fingers would spread
so they could cuddle up
to the webs.

Sometimes I imagined
my mother's nonexistant hugs
would feel so soft, so cool,
so heavy, so all enveloping.

The bins are no longer.
Goods are in plastic bags.

But I've found 
a replacement.

When it's hot
and the fan is on,
you're wearing shorts
or boxers,
and sitting on the couch,
I slide my hand
or foot
palm down under your thigh
feel that cool, heavy weight
enveloping me.
And see acceptance in your eyes.

Kathleen Hover
04-14-02