Wednesday, February 25, 2015


Shopping is not fun.
It is not one laugh after another, trawling
The supermarket shelves for a bargain,
For something you can afford.
Rooting through the reduced chiller, and
Walking up and down the fruit and veg
Looking for that tell-tale sticker.
But at least I can.
And as I walk the aisles in the co-op
I think to myself, so little stands between
Me, and needing the help of the foodbank.
I am no MP, I have no expenses account,
Just a few hundred pounds a month to
Put fuel in the car, coal on the fire, and
Food into the fridge. But the little I have
Is enough.
It is not luxury, it is not excess, it is not
Tolerant of waste and the purchase of
Fripperies. But it suffices.
And so, as I walk those aisles, and plot my
Course from onions to reduced meat, to
Kindling and frozen peas, I add to
My trolley the odd one of those,
Two of these, one of the other
And a handful of this at four for
A pound.
Because I can.
Please can you?

© 2ndwitch, 25/02/15

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