Wednesday, April 18, 2018

NaPoWriMo, Day Eighteen, Poem Seven


The cashier told the lady
to have a good day,
and she replied, Yes please.

The cashier wondered
if she misheard
but wouldn't ask.

Instead he held his hand out,
offering the receipt
that just finished printing.

The lady took and smiled,
satisfied with whatever message
she thought it might convey.

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