Beached Bones

Like beached whale bones
The carts litter the lot.
Abandoned on medians,
Or lonely in empty spots:
The car park is a graveyard.
The attendants wander,
Collecting wayward children,
Shepherding them back
To be revived by the next
Distracted shopper.

Author: Phil RedBeard

I'm just a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe. View all posts by Phil RedBeard