;
Peaceful blessing
What was he at, that little man of wire,
skin not dark nor fair, face and eyes sun-
leathered, smile-folded, black of hair,
crouching by his van, mobile-photographing
what? – a vacant lot of waist-high grass
with still a hint of green this seared November?
I asked and then I saw – a swathe mown
two metres wide. And facing forward near
the footpath stood a large and green and shiny
mower. He took his shot, passed me his mobile
and stood chest-out beside his brand-new machine,
hand resting on the bar. I took the shot;
he liked it.
I could not pick his speech, and asked
where he had come from. ‘Afghanistan.’ I told
how once his folk were honoured in this town,
their little mosque a glory, qibla tiled
deep blue. ‘I know.’
I took my leave, walked on
to catch my bus. I thought, he’s fled his land,
and found his refuge; and now he’s telling friends
with pictures all is well with him. Nothing
I knew of his own language, but guessed he’d have
more Arabic than I. I turned and called,
‘Salaam aleikum.’ “Aleikum salaam,’ he answered.
I walked on smiling; my heart still smiles.
;
Murray Alfredson, BA, Melbourne, MLib, Wales, is a former librarian, university lecturer and Buddhist chaplain. He lives on the Fleurieu Peninsula by Gulf St Vincent in South Australia. He took up writing after retirement, and has published essays on Buddhist meditation, inter-faith relations and poetics, and poems and translations in anthologies, magazines and e-zines in Australia, the USA, the UK, Sweden and Canada, and a collection, ‘Nectar and light’, in Friendly Street New poets, 12, Adelaide, 2007. His collection, The gleaming clouds, Interactive Publications, Brisbane, 2013, is available here and on Amazon here. He has won and been highly commended in several poetry awards, and been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Read more of Alfredson’s work here.