The Quarter Paladin

He waits near the carts
in full armor
with a crown of quarters
in one gloved hand.

When someone approaches
he steps forward
and offers release.

Here, he says,
allow me.

Some pretend
they forgot something
and walk back to their cars.
Some wait a little farther off
hoping he’ll choose
someone else.

A manager comes out
before noon.

The Quarter Paladin
tries to explain
that he serves a public good,
that people arrive burdened enough.

They make him leave
before anyone agrees.