Things learned not driving: small trips

It continues.  Lessons learned.  And already the amnesia begins.  My garden store trip netted two flats of annuals and an elderberry bush.  I do not have planters for a full two flats.  With a car I am a lot more self-indulgent, because I can be.  I want to plant a rainbow on the front lawn,  I think I will have to give away a number of the coleus (the spotted varieties are so much fun).  Still, I am glad to be able to pick up mushroom compost without walking a wheelbarrow for three blocks.

A small trip to the store

Means one, at most, two bags

With handles,

Preferably the same weight,

So I am balanced.

One gallon of milk

Counts as one bag.

Charcoal briquets

Are out of the question.

Forty pounds of mushroom compost

Require at least

One day*s planning.

There are local folk who always shop

This way;

The store clerks

Know them by name.

The people

Who live next to the train station

In assisted living

Often walk.

Some have motorized carts.

These trips are a large part

Of their social life.

They offer joy and the possibility

Of different vision.

I learned small trips.

I learned joy and possibility

Live next to the train station.