my little old lady

the first thing you notice
is she just appears 
no footfall to announce her
no clearing of the throat 

roundly wrinkled
like a soft peach
an aged ninja
in magenta jammies

pushing a trolley
down my aisle
in slippered feet
like she owns the place—

we haven't seen her
back for some time 
maybe there's a Lidl
closer to home

pareidolia

burnt the toast
let the bath run cold
was late getting out
to work tonight

and a million other
tiny things conspiring
to set this hurricane
in motion

and me at the eye
of the storm as all
my worldly goods
are flung from reach