When Poets Shop
When Poets Shop
Finding a robin on the freeway
is not more startling than encountering
a poet in the condiments aisle
at the market. When worlds collide!
His tall red-bandana'd figure
strides past the packaged nuts
and dried fruits. Warning to customers: he may
declaim at any moment!
Let's make a poem from
the salad dressing shelves--
let the Goddess dressing
humble the Ranch and Italian;
they fall to their knees
before her glory!
Lingering in the produce aisle now,
where the cilantro pretends to be parsley,
luring us to build a hut of scented
greenery, with a roof of leeks
and lemon grass! Forget the
bee-loud glade-- there is an aisle-full
of air fresheners nearby!
Checking out with the cheerful gray-haired
COOP workers, our bags now carry food, fuel in
colorful packaging; our minds
tuck away seeds for future poems.
Peggy Brightman
(c) June 2018
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