deepundergroundpoetry.com

20 minutes

Morning dew kisses my face

my 5am journey begins.

Entering the market to feed body and soul

I laugh at my peculiar ways.

A strong disdain for waiting in lines

fuels my early shopping foray.

Adeptly choosing a seedless watermelon

along with bags of spinach and carrots,

my adventure meets living history.

Most days I am the youngest shopper

as the others putt putt in motorized carts

or stroll a buggy as if enjoying a sunday ride

through the neighborhoods.

Then it happens, everytime.

A woman waiting for assistance

to retrieve an item out of reach

perhaps a man lost in translation

navigating the aisles of confusion.

Initially the startle as I gently bid adieu,

quickly morphs to smiles

hearing the soft southern drawl,

seeing past the flowing hair.

Stories of my children,

A dad proud and warm

opens the flood of memories

these seniors starve to share.

Twenty minutes is the usual

at times less or more.

Eyes alive with detail

explode through words of love.

Simple ticktock of eternity

these minutes slip into sleep.

Leave me grinning at myself,

my fickle nature shed of weight.

What is it about my mind

cringing to wait in lines

yet never a "lost" moment

as I dance with people of worth.

They are the forgotten of life

deemed "production innui"

Vast wealth of breath; jejune

we will be "they" one day.
Written by Soul_Man_Ken
Published
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