Free Verse · Love
One Trip
One trip. Always one trip,
ten bags cutting your fingers white,
too proud to make two journeys —
and somehow that's the man I love:
you'd carry the whole world up the stairs
before you'd let it make you ask for help.
Put the bags down, love.
I'm here. I have hands.
Original poem © QuillOak — free for personal use.
“One Trip” by The QuillOak Editors — quilloak.com/poems/one-trip-groceries
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