Chaos at the Checkout

A poem about unexpected love

There’s chaos at the checkout, A large smash, a broken jar. Havoc spilling into the aisles, It’s mayhem, spreading far.

The woman? She looks stricken. Shame reddening her face. Her kids are hiding behind the trolley, Whilst she flails right there in place.

I watch from a few steps behind her, Three people down in the queue. I want to help, don’t get me wrong? But what, exactly, can I do?

The staff are there and mopping, Glass shards are swept away. The woman — frantic — apologises, “I’m so sorry! I’ll pay! I’ll pay!”

Then the manager strides over, grinning, He doesn’t look the slightest bit mad. Three months later — oh, they’re married. I guess not all chaos is bad.