Strangers walking, passing, some say G’morning, some whisper with a shy, soft smile, Morrrnin’.
Some say Garumph.
Some look with cold eyes, I scurry quick, quick past.
Bicycle, mini-bus, car, oh kakadoodle man, why this bus got to drive so fast? One more coat o’ paint, he coulda knock me down right here in this grass.
Mister with the stocky build from the next neighbourhood greet in a bright, broad way as he walk briskly on, Good Maaarnin’, which does make me grin because he is local white and he ain’t suppose to talk like countryside folks.
Tall, dark, elderly gentleman with a face falling into droops, Hello, how’re you, he ask; I am fine thank you, I reply, and we hurry on; he did try to get me to go with he to he holiday-home by a riverside; I refuse by singing rhapsodies about me best friend in the whole, wide world.
Another elderly man, tall, dark and lean, walking perfectly upright, salute.
Water lily stalks with the nut centers bare at the top, after they petals fade and gone, they look like shrunken aliens all staring in one direction. I don’t know what they saying but it sound like the silent ooooooooohm of aliens calling home.
“Who you see, who you talk to?” my mother ask.
“I see my ex-class-mate mother, she give me news of she daughter in the Island.”
“I see the canal bubbling like soup with all them fish.”
I see a yellow budgie on the road, mamma, it musta escape from some cage, he hanging out with them ground doves that Mrs. R. does feed, but them ground doves barely tolerating he; I see the Whistlin’ Doc, he and Auntie H. about to have breakfast in the garden, he wave the chair that he been fetching, I wave me two hands, I see so many things in just me fifteen minutes walk…