In Walmart
I find myself foraging, basket in hand
among the cocoa harvests of distant lands.
A shaft of light crashes
like a Chinese paratrooper
through the store’s skylight,
rays pieces high-stacked shelves,
beam upon all-consuming shoppers,
flash briefly upon brimful spandex.
It is then I realize that all I need is you,
not cut-price plastic hole fillers,
from this warehouse of empty dreams,
nor anything blue, green, or yellow
seen on T.V.
but then I remember the wine
and beers in aisle twenty-two -
but I still I love you.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
