I walked into the Wal-Mart, shocked,
by red and pink and golden boxes.
This kind of love is nice and shiny,
the packaging so bright it blinds me.
These teddy bears and cards with poems
are nice, but they can’t build a home
or clean it. And these sugared treats
will never be enough to eat.
I had a list, which I now heeded.
I bought the houseware that we needed,
knowing love, the useful kind,
is for all days, and Valentine’s.