holiday

his distressed cries
as if through a glass wall
of the TV screen
the background chatter
she no longer registers

the bags all packed
the taxi on its way
It's just her hair now
that needs to be
brushed back to calm

with long strokes
she studiously removes
traces of feelings
knots of memories
tangles of arguments

relishes the silence unaware
of two little bodies
and that of their father
lying motionless
fifteen stories down