5

i am a shopping cart cowboy
wrangling herds of trolleys
from corral to bay
rounding up all stragglers

with squinted eyes and lowered brow
in the blazing summer sun
i guide long chains up the gentle slope
slowly re-organizing the bay to get a few more seconds of A/C

bundled up in blizzards of snow
the string of carriages drops to 5 or less
as the tiny tractionless wheels
more slide than roll in the inches of slush

a mostly solitary job in the asphalt jungle
occasionally making a run through the front end
to relocate pesky hand baskets back to their doorway home
or helping the overwhelmed load up their cars

my job is not finished until the last shopper is home
and come morn' all my work will be undone
but no matter the conditions i must carry on
because everybody needs groceries