Daily Bread Poem by Margaret Kollmer

I didn't have much in my basket
Some veg. some bread, a magazine
It was bucketing outside
and my feet were damp and cold.
At the pay-point ahead of me
were two overalled workers
each holding a loaf of bread
and nothing else.
I felt discomforted
knowing that inflation meant
that their loaves of bread
now cost them as much
as not too long ago
when they could have bought a loaf
and some cold meat
or a piece of fried fish for their lunch.

They'd paid for their bread
and were about to leave
when I noticed a roll of liver paste
on the counter
left behind by someone else
whose money hadn't quite stretched
out enough....
Before I could think I picked it up
and called them back
holding it up and asking
if they would like it?
They laughed; thinking I was joking
(why is giving sometimes more
painful than receiving?)
so I hastily asked the till checker to ring it up
on my bill and give it to them.
They laughed and I laughed
and in that moment
we were one
and happy.

I wished I had given more.....
I could've bought them
a whole chicken
perhaps some milk
and fruit....
all my bills were paid
and I had a full tank of gas.

For the rest of that day
and long into the night
I was haunted by the sad reality
that they are only a small representation
of many such workers
whose lunch each day
is just a simple loaf of bread
And nothing else.