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