Morning
To early risers
Sunlight makes me squint.
My eyes are widest
In the dewy fog of early morning
When the birds fill the air with song,
Before the people fill the streets with steps.
It’s easiest to look about in the mist
When the people go about their business
Unaware of my presence
In the priorities of their wakeful suffering.
I stand invisible on a street corner
Listening to the sounds of a city
Grudgingly stretching away from its dreams
To face the indifferent golden dawn.
The gentle rustle of fallen leaves
Becomes consumed by the reluctant footfalls
Of the health minded and dog walkers,
Then, all at once, the city is alive
With the sighs, grunts and smiles
Of millions of content people
Who did not have to get up this early
To move their fucking car.
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