I can see a man outside a block of flats
swinging a beige tote bag like a toddler
waiting for his mum to finish chatting.
A lady with a kind face walks out of the flats
and kisses the tote bag man in a way
I know she’s not his mum.
They start talking. Nice day,
one of them probably says.
The days are always nice with you,
I hope the other says.
But today is not a nice day.
The sun set on an entire community yesterday,
the cheeks of pavement are soaking wet.
The lady with the kind face kisses
the tote bag man again.
Nice day, I hope.

© Carl Burkitt 2020