I walk my granddaughter
 up the hill to Daycare
 over grates, cigarette butts
 past plastic trash bags
  
 she finds the asphalt
 mesmerising, examines
 every glinting thing
 with perfect purpose
  
 We wave to the lady with
 the dog wearing boots
 on all four paws and she
 stops and waves back
  
 people respond to a one
 year old who cares that much
 about them and they break
 into wide happy smiles
  
 Later on, I board the bus and
 become angry at the teenager
 head down on his phone
 in the seat for the elderly
  
  
 I shame this young man
 when someone even older
 than I am, boards, but all
 I do is shame myself
  
 the old woman doesn’t 
 want this young man’s seat
 she’d rather stand than
 lose her dignity to rage
  
 At the pedestrian crossing
 I am the only one fuming
 as a man in a white sedan
 edges over the painted lines
  
 I swear at him, actually
 out loud but no one hears
 or cares least of all him
 as he roars to the next lights
  
 As a visitor in this city 
 I am the elderly anomaly
 carrying the luggage of
 my own petty prejudice
  
 I’m learning to contain my
 expectations of others, to
 tilt my parasol to the sun
 ride the bus like a local
 an eye out for the glinting