I’ve thought for several hours about the child
at the supermarket, pushed round by his Mum,
his eyes fixed upwards, mouth open wide
and every now and then flapping his arms.
We crossed paths maybe six or seven times
and I was quick to look away to some
eye level blurb for a discounted item.
Though at one point I veered into the path
of the lifestyle guru famous for his schemes
on how to gain the maximum of worth
from monthly lower middle wage packets.
A household name, this minister of thrift,
yet all I noticed was his single basket.
There is a silent sadness that speaks out,
our inner lives shine through, we cannot mask it
as we all shuffle off to the self checkout.