carrots

carrots

A Poem by SkinlessFrank

i’m watching

the lost shoppers

push their carts

through the

produce aisle

looking for something

they 

once upon a time

knew

was alive


 

when the

cold air

of

harvest time

crept up their sleeves

and the moist dirt

on the bottoms

of

their

shoes

 

reminded them

that they too

were once

alive


and maybe

i was too

© 2012 SkinlessFrank


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Reviews

'when the
cold air
of
harvest time
crept up their sleeves'

a very sad reflection on society and the people who have lost their way. this seemed almost understated for you, very subtle but i liked it. fantastic.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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507 Views
21 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on November 10, 2012
Last Updated on November 16, 2012

Author

SkinlessFrank
SkinlessFrank

Glen Sutton, Quebec, Canada



Writing
death death

A Poem by SkinlessFrank



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