From the shopping cart's perspective (poem/book#3)
From
the Shopping Cart’s Perspective
When you were little, we
met while you were crying, and you seemed loved.
You slid your feet inside
a space that I designed just for you.
As you got older, you
still came by with your mother.
You touched my sides
while you were pointing at your favorite snacks.
“Can I have this? Can I
have this?!”
Then I saw you with lots
of friends.
You filled me up right to
the brim.
At other times it was
just two, just you and someone else that
You hugged and kissed and
wheeled around in merry bliss.
You raced me down with so
much joy.
You seemed too grown, but
still I was your one and only favorite toy.
Then it was off to a
career.
And months went by, I
thought you disappeared.
When you stopped by, I
realized, you ate alone, junk foods like fries.
You didn’t seem so happy,
but your car looked real nice.
You didn’t seem to care
too much if it was me or a little blue basket.
These were the times when
you appeared your saddest. –
And this was the time
when you began to buy lots of liquor to mask it.
Many years have gone by. I’ve
got a broken wheel now.
And a locked ankle
bracelet on my front right foot.
My supermarket sign is
gone, my tiny seat has been removed.
Yet, I’ve never ever felt
so warm and loved. Our blankets keep us warm.
Your face, your smile,
your care for me, at my old age, brings so much joy.
Thank you.
I’m happy to see you
through another day.
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You did it! Your self-authorized voice is both mighty and lovely. Thank you for being you. Thank you for your existence. Thank you for your leadership.
With Admiration,
fern the poet