The boon of twenty
barely warrants use
of shopping cart.
Normalcy, the pretense of,
is bringing small skips
amidst his everyday shuffle,
even smiles for those
who’d not return his joy.
“Paper or plastic?”
“Plastic, my dear,”
she cringes from his hand.
Sunshine smiles again,
and three bags full.
Tuna saved for winter’s warmth,
eggs to boil, savored for weeks to come,
and third,
the apples, red and green,
to share with friends
communing needs
of society,
half-gloved.
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your tags are hints — without them, I wouldn’t begin to understand.
At first I thought it was you, at twenty-years old, skipping through a grocery store blissfully ignoring convention as others (with feelings covered in a glove), barely smiled at your happiness.
Now I see the cashier cringing from a disheveled homeless guy whose smiles aren’t appreciated. It was more fun imagining it was you. Smile
you can continue in your imaginings if you wish…thanks for stopping by.. (working on getting that skip back into my step)
Instead of waiting for the feeling to skip, just skip — the feeling may follow!
Be well.
The marvelous advice, fake it until you make it…smiles..did some skipping on my bicycle today..