My hands are dry and covered in scratches by the end of my shift

Opening paper bags and folding expensive health food into them is nothing compared to what I used to do

I thought whole foods would be a good place for a washed up goddess like me

I guess I was wrong about that

There is nowhere on this dying earth for me

Despite this place and it's hundreds of recycling bins

It is still killing me

For I am still dying

It shows

Customers are dragging in through the sliding doors, each one letting in a bit more cold

I guess that's my fault

The days getting shorter

Leaves going from virescent to decaying in days

A woman comes through my line, she has fruit, dairy free cheese, and gluten free bread

The total is eighteen dollars

If a woman in my day

The days of Greece and God's

Had offered me this, I would have turned her into barley

I smile to myself at the thought

I hand her the paper bag of groceries

She has no idea who I am

The powers I once had

No one pays attention to Demeter anymore

No one but Gaia, the earth mother

For in a way, we are one

My shift ends and I walk out towards my car

Dusk is setting

We are the same earth mother, we are both forgotten