Local

The sun has warmed the concrete on my favourite seat. I like the cardamom tea, from the Nepalese grocery store, delicious. . 

The suburb seems lonely as I sit here on my own. 

Here's another human a Chinaman having a smoke, I raised my cup and say enjoy, he smiles like I told a joke. 

I move down the mall, there are people milling around. 

There's a buska in the distant putting out their sound. 

A mums taking a photo of her daughter blowing bubbles, I sneak behind into the picture, she grins, I'm out of trouble. 

Bohemian rhapsody resounding from a keyboard, a passionate teenager showing us his worth, practise makes perfect, some have it with birth.

I've spent a lifetime in this area, a familiar face I can't see. 

Probably best as I think about my life where I have been,  what I have become.

The answers to my questions,  contemplated in the son. 

An Asian influence has permeated the place, as I eat my hand made noodles I do enjoy the taste. 

My local centre has changed over my years but I am not afraid of what it's become. It brings me lots of joy.

Just a small player in a life out of control looking for a window to befriend another soul. 

The homeless here are not rejected Ray with the bird gets most of the attention. A thug stole it once to impress his girl: locals came to the rescue, sat on the offender until the police were called. Off to the station with him, Ray's bird returned. 

Yes this place seems to accept everybody, I come here often, it's kind of a hobby, to watch them all from the poor to the snobby. 

Just another day but I go home a winner.

I buy roast duck and have pancakes for dinner.