Morning Commute

It’s a slow dispersal, like raindrops down a window pane. Pausing, as if in thought. Joining and branching, then disappearing.

Scattered, like a rain that grows with sleepy reluctance.

Then a rush, the storm that finally thunders its presence. Winds and howls that stop you in your tracks, and clouds that impede your journey.

Every morning, a yawning procession.

—-

Morning thoughts on the bus ride to work. 

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29 thoughts on “Morning Commute

  1. I wish I could afford to use public transport every day to get to work. Things are so messed up in this country that it’s cheaper by half to use the car than to hop on a train.

    Like

  2. Pingback: Morning Commute | The Fantastical Whimsies of a DreamerChild

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