Lost and Found . . .

The population of photos in these pages seems to be growing exponentially, while the poem population is dwindling in proportion, even though the heading on the blog says it would be both. . . well, am going to take a small step toward rectifying that imbalance here . . . writing is almost as important a part of my life as photographing and playing guitar. . . whether or not it's any good is another question altogether. . .
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. . . . .Lost and Found
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In the super market this afternoon
In the colossal market of this day
Where humans scurry like ants
On their various wonderful missions
I was pushing a shopping cart
Heavy with bottled water bottles of wine
Food for cats toothpaste breakfast cereal
All the trivial things we need to live
In this day and age
Talking lightly with my wife of twelve years
Vacation coming to escape the cold gray
The hanging gray fog outside
What kind of cheese to buy
I was studying the camembert and brie
When I noticed she had stepped away
I went to the end of the aisle
Looked in all directions
But no wife could I see
Other women and men some with children
Going about their various quests
Marvelling over the multitude of choice
Forty flavors of toothpaste
Thirty brands of beer
Cookies and jellies galore
Nowhere could I spy my wife
Suddenly I was lost and totally alone
The super store had swallowed her whole
I was wondering where to go
Hemmed in by shopping carts
Pushed by vapid women
Hesitating over twenty three varieties
Of tomato sauce
I wanted to let loose a long mournful howl
From the depths of my forlorn soul
And then suddenly she was back again
Brandishing a large jar of pickles
Everything was OK
And the sun was calling
All the way from the islands
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