Parking Lot - Poem by Julyn Pride
A voyeur in the busy parking lot
As hungry people rush in and out of the grocery store,
Unaware of being watched from a far point.
A red facade with big windows
Stares out, Prestone and car scrapers its eyes.
Ice melts on cement sidewalk, all eyes cast down
At the hazards of winter.
An old man lifts his car hood, and a child
Points and wonders what is wrong.
The man, oblivious, removes a glove, presses a spark plug
And a zapping blue current shoots out.
One last pay phone stands outside the automatic door
And a Camel smoking man jingles his coins into the slot
His riveted attention seeing nothing but the number pad,
And the voyeur at his far point
Sits back in a harmonious trust
That none will notice,
And they don't.
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