Pondering a question,
Asked at the start of the day.
Then told not to answer straight away,
What do I want to be when I grow up?

Walking into the butcher shop,
With sandals on my feet,
Sawdust on the floor.
Caught between my toes;
Mum buying two slices of bacon,
And a egg for my father's tea.

Dry ice on the payment edge,
Outside the fisherman's shop.
Rabbits, pheasants and chickens,
Hanging from the top.

Rows of fish laying down,
Neatly upon the tabletops.
With blue bottles and flies,
Being carefully brushed aside.

Vinegar bottles being filled up,
Luxury fruit being sold.
At the grocery store people asking.
"How much for the potatoes,
Fallen on the floor".

People walking behind horses.
With there bucket and spade,
Following wherever they go.

Buckets being emptied,
from upstairs windows.
As someone shout's out!
"Look out below".

Finding horse manure,
On one of his car tyres.
Dad going into one of his rants;
As mum buys a kettle,
With her green shield stamps.

All of the family getting home
for tea, So what do I want to be?
When asked when I grow up,
Shrugged my shoulders and said.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 127 times
Written on 2023-08-23 at 06:15

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D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
A good one Alan. And the me then is now the me now, who can evoke such powerful memories