Target Walker

Glimpse first as reflection in the glass, through frozen pizzas, bags of chicken parts, cheese stuffed jalapeno poppers, tripping cold box light sensors, as he passes in purposeful gate.

Glimpse second, brushing past, disappearing round aisle’s corner, a thought I had. “What the hell is he doing”?! Holds no basket, pushes no cart, only strides

amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles. 

Amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

Dressed in garbs of black and slip-on sneakers, head flecked with strands of gray, evading the punters who thrust carts of red into his path.

Pauses not, to gawp at the sills of infinite array, impervious to the seductive, beckoning images pitching sundries, singular focus unwavering, he glides

amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

Amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

Towards me again he comes, momentary meeting eyes, I nod and smile, immutable expression confounds, onward returns his nippy gaze, never slowing step.

Watching in wonderment as he weaves the lane of painted faces, hairy concoctions, skin tightening goop, destination unknown, he dances

amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

Amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

Girdled by indifferent ones, in perpetual motion alone, seeking escape from aloneness, comfort in bustling clatter, or… does he just like ambling

amidst the aisles winding,

winding amid the aisles.

 

 

About the Author: Dennis Perry Clark is a retired chef turned writer. He has written a cookbook, short stories, and recently began composing poetry. Some of his previous work will soon appear in Indigo Lit. and Figroot Press.