circular staircase

Doors slide open

Rows of near empty shelves
Forlorn packages sit vigil haphazard

Bewildered and resigned
Masked shoppers pushing desperate carts

Round and round
In an exhausted loop of higher prices and low expectations

Milk egg and bread weather
Hisses across the parking lot

Another storm; another variant
I raise my hood, square my shoulders

Well-stocked but empty
Replenished and exhausted

Closed sliding doors