In the Line Up
It’s beginning to rain.
Just drizzle now
but who knows what that portends.
And there’s no shelter.
But at least we’re moving,
slowly to be sure,
but forward.
“What’s this line for?”
I ask the guy in front of me.
Not that I’m curious
but the woman behind me wants to know.
He shrugs his shoulders.
He just fell in behind the couple
ahead of him.
They seemed to know what they were doing
though he didn’t press them for an explanation
just in case.
I look back and see bodies the entire block.
I’m hoping it’s not Army Recruiting
but no, it can’t be.
Five places to my rear
is a white-haired woman
who must be in her eighties.
Sneak preview of a new tv sitcom?
Justin Bieber tickets? Soup kitchen?
Job fair? The cast of Downton Abbey
signing autographs?
It doesn’t matter.
I had nothing better to do.
I could have been hanging out in the park
or losing my money at the track
or sitting home, lonely and bored.
But here, I belong.
Scientology profile or
the latest John Grisham – I belong.
So what if the clouds burst.
This is no parade.
It’s just a belonging.
It doesn’t mind being rained on.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Ellipsis. Latest books, Covert, Memory Outside The Head and Guest Of Myself are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Washington Square Review and Red Weather.