Detoxification

I live in a small pueblo where every day or so my neighbours sweep the pavement to keep their side of the road clean and pick up the litter And I like Beppo the Street Sweeper in Momo by Michael Ende who always has the time to speak a kind word to his legendary mates Never liked to litter with trash rubbish or garbage but I have cast words and actions upon my fellows sometimes in anger and others in vulnerable pain and they need not forget forgive or reward me for my apologies must not sanction me with a medal ‘Purple Heart’ for my own suffering through the offence which became a junk yard for wrong actions and speech Life is short and wasteful memories can be long but a short ‘I am sorry’ does not do any harm as long as its honest and not for scoring immaculate points on a spread sheet of blemishes and deceit From my door step I voice ‘Hola’ and ‘Que pasa?’ to the little old ladies with the curlers and brooms Dettol in hand and staggering steps in their stride and wish to put my failings into the recycling bin sanitize with truthful acceptance of my part in a toxic environment that needs a tidy up before it sticks like dog poo on a foul conscience and reeks havoc ‘Disculpe’ and ‘Lo siento’ as a tiny ‘mea culpa’ is simply an offer of truce not a white shiny flag of capitulation or forced armistice under duress but Peace and social encounters are tough enough even without grievances and self-righteous pride I can’t turn into perfume and on some occasions an ‘I beg your pardon’ was not granted the request my appeal for friendship was rebuffed and thrown straight back into my face with fierce vengeance but more often than not a land fill site of regret was granted a home for a sincere olive branch in the shelter of simply doing the right thing as the best one can do 23rd May 2021