her pupils dilate

I thought she was a homeless person

kitted for warmth in dark bomber jacket and thick workmen gloves

all I could see was the gnome woollen hat and her gnome panting face

huffing while jogging at her peculiar pace

It’s a cold London morning and cold morning sun

Dark skin as I am in this poly cultural space

But I knew as you do a fellow colonist’s gait

Her tale was the usual a sabbatical from home

Here to add more laurels and letters to the end of her name

She was here with her husband and 6 year old kid with her eldest back home in her in-laws’ abode

I never would have jogged when I was back home

I mean how could I with my husband, my kid, my in-laws, my life

Imagine the scandal the neighbours would chatter, my mother in-law would natter

And for my extended family the tales would be wild

My driver would fret about losing his job

My maid might consider her plan for kidnap

And she spoke to me her pupils dilate, her cheeks seemed warmer, her mouth oh dear

And all I could think of was calling in sick

To abscond from work, to live in her space

I suppose she continued I could use the

 gym that my girl friends and I spend time having brunch

“My girl friends and I” the phrase rebounds round my skull

I must get going said my colonial mate

And so must I I work right there

We must meet again, for sure I said,

We should do coffee and talk about the weather

Of hurricane Sandy and the US of A

Do you have family there are they all alright

And what about the coverage the incessant angles

Did you see the one where they interviewed a pet?

And how is it that people refuse to move

 living right by the harbour with nothing to win

Nothing to win, did you see the homeless person rescued from high ground?

The homeless person is you but you are high ground

Married with children and how is it

that it is obvious to me that you are my hurricane

but I refuse to move