Through My Eyes
‘Wearing Adidas makes you look older’
I hear the children say
as we share space
reluctantly
on the big red bus
that chugs and churns
inexorably.
I should buy some Adidas
if the opposite is also true.
—
‘You intrigue me’
A text from an unknown lover
reads
illuminating the rain drops
that make patterns on my screen.
The thin rain
that gets you surprisingly wet
greets me
as I alight the 465.
—
A hot drink
to go
opens space in my mind
to contemplate on the mundaneness
of it all.
“a flat white please”
the lady in-front requests —
I can’t help but feel
she is the victim
of her own descriptions.
—
Why do these Fridays
always feel like Mondays?
I know
It’s not the right day
to change the poster that adorns the bus stop.
Some things you only
notice
when you walk the same way
each day.
—
I worry for the man
who rests on the cracked pavement
forlorn
opposite a pelican crossing
the road thick with cars
leaching their noxious fumes
as the man desperately tries
to peep
through the gaps.
—
I pass through a cloud of cigarette
smoke
so devilishly satisfying
I forget I am meant
to be solving the worlds problems
as if
they are my own.
Those pesky
stubborn stains
we all share.
—
The innocent laugh of a little girl
catches me
by surprise
I watch her mother knelt by her side
as they draw pictures with their fingers
on the misty glass
of a shop window.
For the first time
in a long time
I feel something.
——
Posted Mar 30, 2023, 12:07 PM UTC · edited