The pharmacists furious face

A Poem by Marshall

Pharmacist with the funny face
I’m not sure how the lines were etched
and set in place across a severe brow
like storms had raged and winters chill
had set the frozen expression
into an acid dipped contour.

Each time I went with a prescription
to collect remedies for a cough and cold
a limp here
a sore there
some racing bp charts
an erring heart muscle.
His face remained stoic.

His face alone would frighten me
as pale as death he looked at me
over the rimmed glasses
and just that one second longer
than necessary.

My guilt soared. I felt like an addict
come into store to fetch
a high kick of something
suspicion hidden under the GPs scrawl.

I dared to look back
flushing red at his store.
It became a battle of the blush.

Twice I won
And never went back for a whole six months
Is he the guy that protects our streets
from the throaty lozenge
that may contain crack cocaine
hidden in its entrails? I dont know
but I always felt he had a secret sleeve
from where he pulled out those potions!