The Accidental Poetry of Found Lists

I.
A few weeks ago, in the chaos of a Trader Joe’s parking lot, I found a stranger’s grocery list stuck to my windshield. It was raining out, and hard. My insides matched the outsides and the weather mimicked the current climate of the world: gray and full of despair. The small square of paper had most likely been blown by the early spring wind, and it stuck to my car like a soggy postage stamp.