Life Is A Knuckle Poem by Richard Provencher

My eyes follow a
young lady
as she meanders
through aisles

her smile a lure for
my worldly ways

cares not for the
crinkle of packaging
nor hand-reach
for all wants.

I am a voyeur that
risks everything

my career
community standing
so I may study
her secret.

At times grocery-laden
carts block my
view

seeking is a journey
knowing she is
homeless

said so as we chatted
on the street
one day.

Her trademark
no cares it seems

how does she do it
stacks against
my brain.

She's coy
knows I watch
sees my groceries
she has none

just a grin
on her no-need-to
worry face.