Snow is falling on the cart.
Steam is blowing into the sky.
Lined up in a straight line, all in order, ketchup, mayo, mustard.
“Would you like some?” the buyer asks, holding out a plate.
The smell, Oh the smell, wafts into her nose.
A nod is all it takes, as he shoves it in her arms.
The shaking ceases as the first one goes in, and the hunger stops as the last one DISAPPEARS.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems!
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I will be continually adding to. Most of them will be poems that I had to write for school but some of them will free poems!
