The Incredible Lightness of Braaiing
Yesterday at the braai
I watched the smoke
lifting on swirls of hot air.
I thought it was a good idea,
so I told myself I was light.
At first I wobbled unsteadily,
satiated with smoky, fragrant air,
but eventually I slowly left the ground.
First I drifted sideways,
and then I floated higher at a slant.
I waved my hands
to turn myself horizontal,
and studied the ground below.
Roofs surrounded by trees
made a suburban patchwork,
blue and greenish flashes
indicated pools.
The blimp in shorts and sandals
that was me, drifted far below the clouds.
People were dots in their back gardens
doing Sunday things in their casual clothes.
I felt the need to wee, and did.
I don't think a single drop
reached anybody below –
nobody looked up,
people rarely do.
Note
"braai" = "barbecue"
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