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Alien Nation
I entered the small shop and found the few things I required.
The shop-keeper viewed me with suspicion,
Standing chatting with his family at the till. He never let me out of his sight.
As I approached to pay, silence fell, like an axe.
“Good morning” I said.
No response was forthcoming.
No pleasantries were exchanged.
I paid and left the shop, fully aware that I didn’t belong.
My custom was not wanted there, In the village where my family have lived and farmed for four centuries.
In the melting-pot,
alien-nation.
Hello John,I really enjoyed your poetry. I read about half of them. You have a uniquely flavored voice and what humor. There were so many good lines especially in Beauty Wasted, Beauty Lost, Meaningless but in several others too. I liked the whole outlay of this poem I am critiquing now. Would love to hear the story behind it sometime. perhaps you can write a poem on that lol. anyway thanks for sharing it was a pleasure. sincerely Melissa