I think most people relish that little quiet bit of time, when you are still all your own person, just before the work persona gets switched on. I remember being like that before going to school too, or even before going out to a party.

Incidentally, the verse about the bus popped into my head, as a bus drove past, logically, and sparked the whole idea of finding 1,000 such ordinary marvellous moments and writing them all down in a chronological imaginary 24 hour period: One Thousand Miracles In One Day.

380 catalogued so far, and it's about 9.10am.

There is a strong belief (in my head) that saucer shaped clouds are the origin of alien visitation stories, it's the kind of thought I have before work.

Feet on pavement, eyes lifted
The air is getting heavier
Clouds arrive in fleets
Take over the sky

Lumps of gunmetal grey
Solidify the sky; cloudlocked
In the strip of free air beneath
My boots tap the pavement

Shop door keys turn, unlock
After the routine protocols
Waking the till, drinking tea
Relishing the last drop of quietude

Parsnips pile in a box at the veg shop
Circular and triangular, resemble
Sections of reptile tails
Peeled and dusted with earth

Rain is a cocoon, I am
A warm shape watching traffic pass
Through a curtain of droplets
While I splash puddles, to get home wet

Rain drums on everything
It makes percussion on windscreens
Each wiper swipe is a fresh visual
A million pictures, a million beats

Each car travels in its own flume
Outside streaks down rain, inside
The occupants face the same way
At this point in their journey

Trees are in leaf, the rain
Refreshes them, they would rather not
Shelter or miss one drop of this
Quenching luscious shower

The road is lost in mist, after a
Certain distance, as it leans around the
Cemetery where people are visiting
Memories buried, metaphysical treasure

A green bus comes around
A corner, as the sun emerges
And lights it up, a bright
Amazing block of colour


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