The Supermarket Car Park

In the sprawling savannah of tarmac and paint,

Where wild-eyed shoppers prowl, their trolleys tilted,

The supermarket car park, oh, constraint

Of concrete jungle, where dreams are sifted.

See the elderly couple, armed with list,

Their battle plan for aisles of plenty,

And the frazzled mother, in her minivan,

Her children, in the back, in endless twenty

Questions, demands, and the occasional scream,

A symphony of suburban dreams.

Observe the lonely seagull, out of place,

In the sea of steel and glass, his cries ignored,

As he squabbles with a wayward shopping cart,

His dignity, like yesterdays' news, afforded.

And the parking warden, in his hi-vis vest,

A shepherd of the painted lines' domain,

With a click and a flick, he leaves his mark,

A ticket, a reprimand, a cause of pain.

Yet here, in this absurd, mundane expanse,

Life, in all its trivial glory, dances.