Walthamstow Observed

By: 

Miranda

Keeling

This is non-fiction poetry, observed in my walks around Walthamstow, where I live.

In a front garden in Walthamstow, a stone statue of a woman, wears a small, blue, cloth, face-mask.

Man in Walthamstow: I’m so embarrassed man, I haven’t seen you for ages.
His friend: Live in the present mate. You’re here now (he hugs him).

I sit looking out over Walthamstow Wetlands. A little girl comes to sit beside me. Her mum is catching up.
Little girl: Hello.
Me: Hello.
Little girl: *gestures to everything before us* Did you do this?
Me: (laughing) No.
She smiles at me, as if we both secretly know I did.

As I walk through Walthamstow past a familiar magnolia tree, I see that the unsung solar lights wrapped around its branches have, in today’s twilight, become bright spots, full of glorious summer-sun.

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