I’m a supermarket trolley
just lurking by the door.
I’ve three good wheels that glide
and one that drags along the floor.
The unsuspecting are my prey
the nervous and the fraught.
I really set them twitching
by not doing what I ought.
I always go my own way
choosing which aisle to course.
If they want tea or coffee
then I make for the sauce.
They can push or pull or kick me
but try with all their might.
Whenever they turn to the left
I still turn to the right.
I collide with other shoppers
and relish what is said
between the one with bloody ankles
and the one whose face is red.
So you’ve had a brief encounter
with a trolley that’s for sure.
It was me, the shopper’s nightmare
Always lurking by the door.
Nedra Lowe
The Wee Vine 