brown paper bags
stacked
leaning tower style
ready
for
berries
straw, blue and logan
out front
bursting punnets stain
ripe scent rising
to entice.
storeroom racks
fusty and mildewed
fusty and mildewed
hold last years onions
and finger sprouting potatoes
ready to go on special
the mice depart for dark corners
darting eyes watching
for fallen spoils
the saturday girl
in the red checked apron
in the red checked apron
polishes and re-arranges
dreaming of tonight's dance
juggling the possibilities
of this over that
when the shop door slams
the oranges scatter and bounce
to the four corners.
Quite appealing;well written
ReplyDeleteAh! you make me wanna plunge into berries and have some citrus fruit... a yummy poem!!
ReplyDeleteI like this- especially the last verse!
ReplyDeleteIs it the grocer shop Margaret Thatcher grew up in ??
ReplyDeleteDelightful! I love the fusty racks and the Saturday girl.
ReplyDeleteLoved the take and nicely written
ReplyDelete. . . :) Eddie
Clouds and Silvery Linings
I like this. I could smell the mustiness that usually accompanies those old, back-road country stores. I even heard the crinkle of the paper bags and the thudding of the oranges as they scuttled into the corners.
ReplyDelete~Jen