footsteps clattering down a side-street; the squeak of an opening door; the rustle of plastic as a man opened his lunch; a child's laughter to my right, and a child's complaint at my far left; the harsh call of a crow overhead; the distant echo of another's reply; the sweeter, shriller call of a different bird in the trees ahead of me; the click of a car door; the wind rustling through the leaves; a joke from the men eating their lunch (deep laughter); the plastic wheels of a child's toy rolling awkwardly on stone; someone sweeping the dusty ground below (there will be water there in summer); a train rumbling in the distance; the station jingle bouncing off the platforms; and finally - voices from long ago, in a memory that felt much closer than it had for some time.
No comments:
Post a Comment