E ~ A lady artisan

The lunch lady at Ladbrokes
her fringe a patch of mauled blackbird feathers
scrabbling from beneath her hat,
one of those cardboard decahedrons
in Maths class, hanging by a string above my head,
She remembers me by sight
and asks if I'd like my usual
Yes please, I say
She swathes the eggmayo on thickly
like clay on a wheel
and folds the greaseproof paper round the bread
like origami,
Hands it to me bundled with pleasure
"Thank you very much."
"You're welcome. Bye!"