Morning at Seven

Matcha cake and kueh Salat —

sweet and calm beginnings.

Mum was ready before me,

her quiet hurry folding into the morning air.

Bus 29 was crowded,

faces blending like soft colours.

I chose the dishes I liked —

simple comfort in a busy day.

Crossing the road,

a heartbeat between steps.

The lift door — I held it open

for a stranger I didn’t know.

I saw familiar faces,

and sat at another side.

It was seven —

the city moved,

and I waited for my bus,

carrying the hush of small kindnesses.