RED WAGON



In summers, I got my first job,
When I was a boy about ten.
I had no piggy bank to rob,
And no allowance way back then.

I’d pull my sturdy red wagon
Down to the A & P Market,
For shoppers to load their bags on,
Right out in front where I’d park it.

If lucky, I earned dollar bills -
Usually, it was just change.
Sometimes I’d haul bags up steep hills -
I’d say that a mile was my range.

I’d carry groceries inside, When to the shopper’s house I’d come, And then wait for her to decide Upon an appropriate sum. I was quite the businessman, And an independent agent, Before so many folks began To take cars wherever they went. © Richard McCusker (jotoma@bellsouth.net)

TIME ON MY HANDS: ~INDEX~
HOME ~THE WRITERS' CORNER~