At The Chemist Shop Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Chemist Shop
At the entrance of the pharmacy a dead sparrow,
no one seemed to notice this tiny death.
The bird just lied there with folded wings and eyes
suitable closed, ready to be put in a coffin.
I told a shop assistant about it, she swept the bird
with a broom, into the tall grass.
There were many women inside, talking about none
prescription medicine, for aches and pain, they were
mostly middle aged and middle class and had not yet
realised that elderliness comes at a price.... pain.
Shelves full of revitalizing creams, promising a young
glow and sagging faces bought this overpriced stuff,
when a bit of olive oil on cotton swab would be more
effective, but not smell as sweetly.