Progress

The glowing ruby letters in the window
Appear harmless enough. Muzak greets me
As I take my basket, and navigate
Through sterile white mazes of Frosted Flakes
And Twinkies, spatulas and corn starch, to find
Some bread in aisle six and a birthday card
In aisle twelve. I still remember the woods
Here before the tile and neatly arranged
Cans of Beef-a-Roni and chicken soup,
Before shampoo and fourteen brands of skin creme
Replaced a dirt path that wound its way
Under crunching orange leaves. The small birds
And spastic squirrels that used to race through here
Are on the street, evicted by Toucan Sam
And Tony the Tiger. Fragrant memories
Of trees and plants whose names I never learned
Return as I walk past pine-scented air
Sealed in plastic tubes. I hand over
My two-sixty near shelves of Hershey's Kisses
And Almond Joys while rows of yellow headlines
Tell me I can lose ten pounds a month.
I take my bag and walk through sliding doors
To pass by Caravans and Cadillacs,
Jeeps and Oldsmobiles, and a red Honda
With a "Save the Earth" bumper sticker
Parked in the woods I used to know.