In the morning we walked a way
And made for the grocery store
Where we often go to
Stock up the cupboards,
And greet people,
And learn the trades of father and son,
And upon returning we called
At the family friendly public house
For an impromptu lunch,
Whereby we passed an hour
Snapping the odd photograph
And mapping a path to the toilet and back,
And once home and slept,
And collected by his sister for the evening,
I was watching him leave
When I delved into the deep
Of my jacket’s cotton pockets and discovered
All manner of sundry items from the day:
A bag of apple segments,
Treated with unimaginable secrets,
As they seem to last all year;
A collection of coloured pencils,
A bottle of juice, a stash of tissues for his runny nose
And a phone an ipod some sweets and a lunch receipt,
And I had to laugh,
As I’d not noticed how my coat
Must have bloated out like the cargo pants
Of a Army man, and then it hit me,
How the planning that goes into most days
Is literary reminiscent of a military exercise.
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