Living the slow life

Living slow,

Living life,

the old, old way.

Gently swaying along at a pace so slow,

From the pane-less window, I view.

History alive in faded signboards,

And stately mansions stand tall and proud.

 

Withered and worn with stories to tell,

Battered and weary, but eloquent with tales.

Of a time of glory and abundant riches,

Music and laughter of generations gone.

Hoping someday, will glory return.

 

A single ring of an age-old bell,

A crank of the brass lever on tram-chalo’s left,

A creak and shudder, as brakes come on,

Someone leaves and the next arrives.

 

Experiencing life the way it can be,

Slow and steady with views stunning.

Unhurried, at times even still,

As an errant cow decides to stay on track.

Life goes on anyway, though slow.

 

A crank on the lever,

The ring of an age-old bell.

And the tram with a shudder and a creak,

Gently rolls on, on, and on.

 

©MVJ Simon 2023