Traveling to the little green store

Our two-wheelers with hand-bar tassels

Several coins eager and safe in pockets

 

Dropping bikes near the entrance

There is little worry of thievery

Our mission in sight we charge inside

 

The cooler holds my bottle of Yoo-Hoo

Near the counter sits the neatly arranged

Shiny round plastic bags of Ring Dings

 

To the bell of the cash register

We bolt out of the little green store

Past our resting transportation

 

Rushing behind the small wood building

Sitting with feet tapping the small brook

We tear in to our treasured treats

 

Tossing wrappers in the metal can

We’re off crossing the busy road

Heading home satisfied with the world