THE OLD GENERAL STORE
Today Amazon can bring all you desire
A piece of jewellery-a new shirt
Some toys for the kids or a book desired to read.
A long time ago steps led to the general store
A large weigh scale, a club of bologna,
Even bananas held by a hook.
There were bins of peanuts, flour stocked in cloth bags
Bolts of material to make aprons and things.
The coal heater was red in the winter
An old grandpa sat in his heavy wool shirt
His cigarette ashes were dumped on the floor.
He said nothing but stared into space.
The clerk wore a green apron
All tied in the back.
He would gleefully pack your groceries
With store strings and bags.
News spread around town
From announcements, to wedding to funerals.
There were scribbled notes by the counter
That said what was new.
A weekly visit kept us together.
Sometimes new rubber boots or a pound of tea
Made us go back to the general store.
Today a Loomis truck stops at our door.
Parcels are delivered in the speed of a moment
General stores are a way of the past.
But Amazon doesn’t say, “good morning. How are you today?”
We shrink into a future where nobody cares.