The eldest ties her sister’s scarf
back around her hair –
not too tight.
Shaking sand from her voice,
the third sister asks a passing suit
excuse me, what is this shop here?
The clock above counts eight hours late.
He stops. Smiles. Looks up.
He passes it every day,
he bought his gran some
Assam tea from there
last Christmas, God rest her soul.
Fortnum and Mason that is, luv. It’s a bit like ’arrods.