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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2136843
by Tinker
Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #2136843
In a small rural town there is no hiding.
Tuesdays in the Church Parking Lot

Cigarettes and paper
cups half-full
of steaming coffee warm
chilled fingers
while faded characters
in frayed levis
turn their backs to the street
to avoid stares
of passers-by
and wait . . .

. . Arms fill with brown
paper bags bearing boxes
of cereal, eggs,
home-grown produce, rice
and assorted cans.
They vanish,
only to return
and wait. . . .
on Tuesday morning.
         ~~Judi Van Gorder

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2136843