I walked down to the corner of my street
and turned where the bunting swayed, listless
a little. Then they kicked up! a breeze moved them.

The footpath had been chewed a bit,
to widen it,
by a tractor at one end.

Near the garage were a lot of little lights,
but it was daylight and they weren't on.

I took a note from my wallet,
put it in my left shirt pocket then
in my pants, then back in my wallet again.

A nervous habit. I felt then
where it no longer was.
I do these things.

Feeling for it still now, with some urgency,
I had it in my hand as I approached
the counter of the petrol station – which doubles

where I live as a food and grocery store –
bought a stick of chocolate that I had
never tried on any afternoon prior to this,

simply on a whim.

The girls at the bus stop chewed and stared,
stared and chewed, and one of them said
What's the time? When's the bus coming?

I said, I don't know. I'm from out of town –
I know nothing of what goes on around here.
I often do this.

It makes me feel young, because irresponsible,
or so I think.

I went round the block,
the bigger block, not the little one,
as I really wanted to walk.

I thought about what the girls had said.

Or the way they had said it. They had
addressed me
out of some slight curiosity. I wondered what I had done

to deserve it. I hummed a little song – “Tomato time,
tomato time” – to a Latin American rhythm, but I could
think over the top of it as it was unobtrusive,

in fact
it kept time with how I walked.

But once I rounded the corner
away from the girls' gaze
my walk slowed and I gradually began, though I didn't
       notice,

to abandon the song.
“Abandon” –
heavy word.

Anyway, I saw a number of uninteresting things,
but this simply causes me to think, become more inward –
or irritated if I am tired.

One does, then,
blame the itinerary,
and think of it as tiresome.

On a day such as this, though, I did not
think it tiresome. As streets go, it is a familiar
and quite interesting street. That is why I walk it.