so long quiet night…
the cacophony
of a world awake
is bewitched
by itself
This tale begins at dawn. Eyelids flutter open. Daylight spills in. Covers unfurl. Feet touch the floor. A quick stop at the loo, then off to brew some coffee. Turn on the morning news. Got to catch up with the spinning earth.
Brush teeth, comb hair, and throw on some rags—it’s a rush to beat the morning rush—don’t want to be late. There’s nothing worse than being late.
Don’t forget the keys. It’s a short walk to the train but there’s a long cue at the turnstile. Got to catch that train—don’t want to be late.
Clickety-clack hums the wheels on the rails—cars filled with people with somewhere to go—for a moment, somewhere together. Then we spill onto the street like scattered leaves, minds with different thoughts to fulfill. This swirling soup of energy, one can almost see it breathing. The beating heart of this chaotic dance, one can almost feel it bleeding.
The city wakes from an evening’s dreaming. I merge with it and become obscure. Walking through the throng, I wonder, “Is this what I’m seeking?”
another today
passes by…
a soft wind blows
through the fog
in my mind
Haibun Today: 13.3
