Mrs Albright from English Lit

Mrs. Albright, from English Lit,

slumped over the pump,

her hair a little thin at the crown.

She fumbled with her card,

swiped it three times before it caught.

Her face, etched with something tired,

not the sharp, knowing look

that once picked apart

Shakespeare for us.

She squinted at the numbers,

just like anyone else trying to calculate

how much more the gas was today.

Not a goddess of iambs,

just a woman,

filling her tank at 7 AM,

breathing in the fumes.