I study lighted crags
that mar the nose of my bagger.
The wire cart rattles one
wobbly wheel, ka-thunk ka-thunk
on out the automatic door.

Pushing past cars that
jostle for convenience,
I’m light as a cumulus
in baby blue Warpchex,
ka-squish in the puddle
clean through the canvas,
cool chill my piggly wigs.

I lift my face to the high above,
a halo mist on a pole.
Tiny wind riders
make a sky of glistening globes,
a light point inside each,
splash sensation on my cheeks.

I stow the sack of
tilapia fish and dragon plums,
ignite my machine,
the wipers syncopate;
ka-thwap, ka-thwap,

Sunday slowly slips past.

02/22/2007

Author's Note: All of it, my whole life, captured on endless film.

Posted on 02/22/2007
Copyright © 2026 David Hill