Part 2

The early risers sup now
from their cups of coffee,
an energy boost into their veins.
The tired faces flashing
In the running window panes,
Splashing a summer rain
Onto the pavement. I’m sodden,
I’m angry, complain to no ear;
Remember the week’s end is coming.
The sky is stunning blue like lapis
And the wife’s hot stew is bubbling,
burning, searing, churning
in her pot. Not a bad lot.
So take a breath,
and get on with the day.
It’s 8am and there’s a forty minute wait
For the train.

The End

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