In plain language
The faded Help for Heroes sticker
in the rear window of his well worn
twenty year old Fiesta speaks volumes,
which is what it’s meant to do.
No way of telling if he’s the hero even
though he’s elderly and walks with a limp
or if the sticker came with the car he uses
a few minutes every day to collect his paper.
He has a handy battery charger which
the woman from the second floor relies on
when her old Skoda refuses to start because
she doesn’t take it out often enough.
The woman from the first floor hardly ever uses
her well preserved Focus except to go to Tesco’s
once a week and she takes the Help for
Heroes man to do his little bits of shopping.
It is first come first served in the car park
but somehow she always gets her place back,
even when it’s time for the M.O.T. and
the nice mechanic returns it, nicely washed.
Sadly, the other day, the Help for Heroes
man didn’t get his usual parking space
after collecting his paper, and another
driver hit the corner of his bumper.
The rear lights cover has been missing
for two weeks and hasn’t been replaced;
the bumper is detached at one end but the
Help for Heroes man still goes for his paper.
Perhaps the car he’s had for so long is
like an extension of his body, bits damaged
or coming loose, but hanging on, like so
many residents, from one day to the next.
© Nemo 2020