One Thing

The woman in front of me

is buying a single banana.

Just that.

Nothing else.

The cashier asks,

"Is that all?"

and the woman nods,

certain,

like she didn't stumble

through the store

trying to think of what

else she might need,

like she didn't stand

in the produce section

weighing every option,

like she didn't add things

to her cart

and then put them back

when she thought

nobody was looking.

She just wanted

a banana.

And now she's done.

The banana travels

down the conveyor belt,

yellow and perfect,

and I watch it go,

and I think:

what would that feel like,

to know something that clearly,

to walk into a place

and know exactly

what you need,

to be finished

that quickly,

that simply.

The cashier rings it up.

The woman pulls out her wallet.

One transaction.

One banana.

One person

who isn't confused

about what she wants.

And I'm standing here

with my basket full

of things I'm not sure about,

still deciding.