Egypt and the tourist police
#9
Today I moved a jumbled pile of clothes.
That had lain so lazy for so long.
Underneath there lay a simple choice.
A family photograph of happy times.
And a Stanley knife.
The Sisters stitch no future for me.
Their threads lie all about them now,
Unspun, while they are eating cream cakes.
The roots are withering fast, the swans unfed.
I ponder at the image on the sheet,
Clearing the soil from round the memory.
Unearthed it comes to mind without much pain,
A photo, at gunpoint, for cash.
The greatest pyramid scheme of all.
You see the moment framed by each unsmiling face.
But not the gunman, to his uniform’s disgrace.
Giza lopes behind us as though colluding awkwardly in this
Mugging of the innocents.
An unexpected laugh,
I find myself amused at the absurdity of life.
But also cherishing the unity
Of husband, child and wife.
A hold up with a photo opp,
The blade put in a drawer.
