Greetings of ordinary people

These are the people
you don’t see every other day,
our lives intersect over avocados displayed
on a table and conversations instantly skip
seven days since the last sentence ended.

Marv the handsome brickie buys a tray
of the best each week, a man
with mercurial wit and a strong sense
of humour. When he tells us in tears of his
son’s death through suicide and apologises

for not returning a tray we feel both sadly
elated and deeply ashamed we did not
embrace him in his need. We comfort him,
say his confidence is indeed an honour,
that we are pleased he shared his grief.

Colin is like the brother I lost in another country,
he reminds me where we’re at in our discussion
on foreign policy; Ray asks after shared
acquaintances, relates gossip on others;
Carothers, his usual name is Bill,

says he got 54mm of rain in Toowoomba
on Saturday. Bloody good we agree.
Cynthia praises the free range eggs she
buys, tells other shoppers we’re honest people
and Lola thinks she wants four ripe today.

It is a glorious way to begin a day;
where else would you want to be at
5:30am on a cool overcast Sunday morning
but here, being warmed by the
greetings of ordinary people?
© I.D. Carswell