The View Across the Street

She sits on the doorstep
arms resting carelessly
on her knees.

She looks amazingly
like a sumo wrestler
waiting to fight.

He, her man, looks trapped;
mesmerised like a rabbit
caught in headlights,
as he listens to her
ever moving mouth.

In his hands,
the garden shears
wait to snip at whatever
her sausage like fingers jab at.

I watch, and wonder.
What is your fantasy, chap?

Suddenly, she hauls herself upright
and waddles barefoot toward him,
he seems to pull in his neck.

The action looking,
for all the world like a tortoise
disappearing into it’s carapace.

She falters,
sensing his abhorrence,
at once changes direction
enters the house and slams the door.

He, visibly relieved,
turns his attention to the bushes
and snips,
snapping with fanciful
aggression…

©
Copyright
VMM 2008