Sometimes, when buying groceries in a store,
And, after waiting patiently in line,
One customer between me and the door,
A register will open next to mine.

Annoyance sprung from that pales in compare
To helplessly observe across the street
The bus on which you are a frequent fare,
Depart, its tail-lights flashing your defeat.

And yet, when to that frigid bench I sink,
Disgruntled, chilled, and more than slightly vexed,
I find that when I seize the time to think,
It helps me focus on whatever’s next.

The next time inconvenience makes me miffed,
I’ll think of that forced stillness as a gift.

Note: Not coincidentally, this was the first sonnet of 2014 to be completed in its entirety on my morning commute.