There I was, strolling the streets, when I came upon a poet. She was sat on a wall with a small folding table and typewriter in front of her. A sign pinned to the table said she would write a poem on any topic you chose. Naturally, I asked for a poem on simplicity.
A few minutes of fast and accurate typing went by, interrupted only by pauses for thought and a friendly dog.
She then presented me with a small, green piece of paper. I handed over some money, the amount of which was left to my discretion, said thank you, and excitedly read my own personal poem. I was pretty blown away.
She had written it in a matter of minutes, on a subject she was unprepared for, on an old typewriter in the middle of a busy street. And what struck me most was how she simply gave the poem away, without any record of it for herself.
It was a moment of generosity amidst the hustle and bustle.
Angelina Stanton, 07.11.2016