I asked a dog-walker for the short cut <br />to the local centre shop. <br />She told me 'Walk to the village green <br />then turn right. A skip and a hop.' <br />'Thank you' I said, unknowingly <br />that the village green WASN'T green.. <br />Everything was blanketed in a coat of snow, <br />it was WHITE where the green had been! <br /> <br />I followed the tracks and got to the shop <br />where crowds were milling about lost. <br />The bread and eggs they were looking for <br />could not be bought at any cost. <br /> <br />The shelves were bare, reminded me <br />of reports I'd seen on the telly. <br />Thirds World countries, very little food, <br />youngsters with hunger-swollen bellies. <br /> <br />Ah well, it's pasta for me tonight <br />and tomorrow again, no doubt. <br />Those tomatoes in cans will be useful and, I expect, <br />the tin of beans will eke it out.<br /><br />Francesca Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-pure-white-poem-and-empty-shops/
