Waiting in the mall
for my wife to do all
her shopping, is my chore.
These bags I'm holding fast,
till there's more,
these're the last
purchases paid for,
their handles looped over
my little fingers
between my knees,
the bags on the floor,
while I ease
my weight off my feet
with my bum on this seat -
which is backless lest
elderly mall-rats like me
think it OK
to rest
here all the retail day
instead of spend spend spend-
ing till opening-times end.
So - can't lean back,
but can close my eyes.
Hear her step soon?
Heading this way?
She needs the pharmacy.
Iıve been to Nutshack
for popcorn, the snack
of choice of the kids who visit her.
Took me a mere moment -
the pharmacy seems
to have swallowed her up.
Perhaps instead of the back-
pain relief she seeks there,
sheıs been whisked to a bench
and is being pummelled by some
pummeller or acupunctured
by some persuasive prick.
Iım staring now in the direction
sheıll be coming from.
I shall read her grimace:
no relief from the pressure?
but still - I see her now -
showing pressure under grace.
Give me the new bags, dear.
Iım telling my knees to straighten.
Iım turning us towards the exit
that leads to where I parked the car.
But where was that?
Once in the car, she can
switch on the satnav,
otherwise known
as global positioning
something-or-other
and up on the screen
will shine a local map
with us on it as an arrow.
Fine! But how about an app
on her phone to narrow
our wanderings in the car park?
Iım pointing the key
in my hand and clicking
at all cars remotely
resembling ours. None flash back:
yes, Iım yours, unlocking
Now!ı These are all too clean
to be ours, for one thing.
For another, theyıre new.
Hereıs ours, click,
hop in quick.
Shoppingıs done,
What next for fun?
We launch ourselves forth,
Our arrow pointing us down
into the sprawling postal
districts of Melbourne.
Somewhere thereıs our home.
The other mall has a big box
labelled 'Drop here your old
winter coat for the coatless.'
I peer in the top were I bolder
I might score a retro-smart
winter-defeating old coat...
Touched, she goes home,
searches her wardrobe,
emerges with coat after coat.
Unworn for years!
Piles them in a heap
saying 'But passing them on
is saying goodbye to those
good times I had in them.
I was young, hopeful,
full of bounce.'
We drive to the mall
subdued. The box is already full.
Others are shedding their past.
We pile hers on top of the rest.
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