In the city centre at peak hour
from the bus stop
to the train station,
listing in my head
the things I plan to do at work
when a small movement by a tree catches my eye -
a chick,
round brown perfection
pecking all by itself,
no bustling mama in sight
I tremble to see it,
so close, alone,
sauntering unaware
of me, my phone, my camera
I take in the arc of its yellow beak,
the black mask across its eye
the brown, black feathers overlapping
cupping the bird like two warm palms
as it picks up a morsel, swallows,
and turns on delicate twigs
each with three tender claws
I can almost feel walking in my hand
But it is earth that holds it,
not I
Stay safe, I pray
Stay safe little one
When I finally walk off
I spot the family,
a good fifty meters away,
red jungle fowl rooster, hen
two chicks darting between their feet
pecking diligently
My eyes yell
don't lose him,
now unseen in the grass,
just because he tends to get lost
in his own thoughts,
following a tune we cannot hear
like my son
wandering off on his own
in a foreign airport,
entranced by donuts
The moment hangs in the air
Like the seconds before chaos
high-pitched cheeping
feet pattering
wings flapping
hearts hammering
choking on unspeakable fears
Stay safe little one
Stay safe
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