Deliverer of Daily Bread

By Lynn Ockersz

The delivery man on wheels,

Breaks the stillness of the night,

As he crunches to a halt,

At secure high-rise palace gates,

And humbler abodes with faded paint,

With orders, now less frequent,

Even as the debate rages,

Amid Covid’s searing spread,

On whether a shut-down state,

Or one without shackles is best,

But without our delivery man,

And others of his ilk living hand-to-mouth,

Their hands bearing the cross of toil without end,

A huge slice of the ‘nation’s’ Bread,

Would never be on kitchen shelves…..

A point to ponder long and deep,

By mailed fists clamping the Executive decree.