The Wicked Witch of the Grocery Store

I was reading the labels of everything
as I moved slowly up and down the aisles.
A challenge to see what really is
in the cans and packages I buy.

Next aisle, a woman I noticed earlier,
now in a similar pose to mine, though exaggerated
and in the middle of the aisle.
I weave around her and smile.

Out of the corner of my eye
she appears again and again,
seemingly agitated by my presence,
or my slow amble through the store.

Then at the till, she’s there once more
angry stares, I can not hear her words
to a man shorter than she
who turns slowly and looks at me.

I wonder, I guess, but don’t really care
what her anger was for,
but she invades my mind,
a shopper of a different kind,
the wicked witch of the grocery store.

©2015 Sharron R. McMillan