Boxing Day Exchange

We are in the queue,

me and you, we know it too:

our front line fallen.

Best not push too hard

or we’ll be displaced

and lives could tumble.

.

If we two could pick

any darn box we desired,

ours would be blood red,

filled with comrades lost

when choices were made

by God, them or us.

.

But we can only

push on with compromised hope,

chipped swords and hearts drawn

in desperation.

Come, let us exchange

pretty distractions.

More than I bargained for!

You stood behind the counter,
my shopping in your grip;
and as you pressed hard on the till,
you spoke with narrowed lips.

“The nights are getting darker,
a chill is in the air;
we can not warm our bones at night,
what ever clothes we wear.”

You squeezed my yoghurt tighter,
and looked me in the eye:
“I think evil’s getting closer.”
I said “Thank you and goodbye.”