Crates, a poem

Crates

I have placed yesterday on sale,

half-priced until we close. After

that, it goes into the dumpster

with the wilted lettuce and moldy

cheese. Let the homeless root

about and take the broken pieces.

I have no use for them. Crates

of tomorrow already wait

to be unloaded and placed on shelves.

Stephen Brooke ©2013