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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem