Sixty-Seven Minutes

A White Sussex rooster with pure white plumage, standing upright like a gentleman in a mustard canvas chore jacket over a navy jersey in a community vegetable garden in Johannesburg on a clear winter morning, a spade upright in freshly turned soil, a galvanised watering can and rows of young spinach at his feet, a painted corrugated-iron shed behind

Spinach, Second Row

The day asks sixty-seven minutes of everyone, to be spent on someone else. He has turned the bed, set out the spinach and filled the can twice, and somewhere after that he stopped counting.

18 July 2026