As I get on the bus the driver smiles as they sometimes do;
Modest dress, loose snow white hijab she looks resplendent too.
As I alight I throw her ‘thanks’ as is customary round here,
No need for an addon, doesn’t get one - would be condescension to ‘my dear’.
I pick up a paper (TV supplement day) at the general store -
I’m early; they run out quickly and won’t get anymore.
Used to be called Seven Eleven; now has some fancy name -
The old Chinese proprietor, he’s still there just the same.
It’s yearly check up with George my dentist, he’s Greek, with him I have no fears;
Been visiting him, same yearly visits, for well over twenty years.
Hope he doesn’t mind the Indian I ate not long before,
That bloke’s English isn’t up to much, but he cooks curries just to die for.
On to my local supermarket with its multicultural crew;
They’re all in sync with each other and I definitely know what they can do.
At last I’m back home to The Gardens, with my shopping load,
As I lug it up the stairs I note the grass is freshly mowed.
Here we all are mostly Anglo – definitely old guard.
As we’re elderly, communication can sometimes be quite hard;
Especially at meetings where marble loss (if they ever had any)
Can mean endless repetition which is anything but funny.
But out there I’m well adjusted; monocultural I know now I just could not take;
A nightmare of the ‘fifties would be enough to keep me very much awake.