Neighbours by Johanne Pulker

For some months now
every morning I walk
to the bottom of a hill
at a local park
then run,
in an elderly fashion,
up to the top.
At the bottom of my block
a garden of flowers
intrudes on the sidewalk,
usually freshly watered as I pass.
Over the weeks and months
I’ve come to realize that
my neighbours
and I are in conversation.
I am becoming acquainted
with a community
that I imagined I did not have.
The red of a single geranium
pierces my heart.
Many conversations are silent.

— from Juniper Volume 6, Issue 2