Bad Blood and The Post office

The post office queue
Curls back
And forth
On itself
All the way
From start to end.

I am about halfway through now
My headphones on,
Absorbed in my own noise
With arms that couldn’t care less.
Bored fingers, anchoring
A pair of cut price DVDs.
Birthday presents for my
Little sister.

In front of me
An old woman smiles.
Her greying hair,
Bright red coat
White tinsel scarf
Catch my eye.
I don’t know why but
Gradually, I notice
That she has

Noticed
Something.
Back
where the cue has bent back
A brother
And sister
On show,
Fighting bloodily.
The boy, coming out on top
Jabs an unforgiving knuckle
Deep into his sister’s face.

My headphones block the yells
But the old woman’s look holds me

She is still smiling,

For a moment I wonder
At the faith that comes with it
And whether any brightly coloured women
Have offered me such a smile in the past?

My arms shudder.
And those easy DVDs,
Bought two days
Too late
For my little sister’s
Twenty first birthday
Drown my ipod
With a their reply.
I feel a bit sick
As a gap comes up ahead
And we all take a step forward.