A Neighborhood Grocery Store

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My husband and I recently were talking about "life before Walmart." I know, not really an interesting topic, but it took us on the road of "Do you remember..." which is always full of fun.

Saturday, we went to a little restaurant for breakfast that happens to be in the building of a neighborhood grocery store when we were growing up. This poem-ish piece is a result of our thoughts, our memories, and our laughter about when life was so much simpler.

Do you remember 

when our neighborhoods

were dotted with 

little grocery stores

and our moms would 

send us to buy a loaf of bread

or a gallon of milk?

Do you remember 

when we would go in

and walk the candy section

deciding what to buy 

with the coins we found 

in the couch cushions

or the money we received

for returning soda bottles?

Do you remember 

walking back to the deli

and buying the best-tasting

bologna and American cheese ever?

Do you remember 

reaching down into

the ice chest for a 

cold drink after

passing the newspapers?

Do you remember 

the time before Walmart

when life seemed 

so much simpler?