Thoughts on the road to work between 14:30 and 15:00 ongoing as of 2022/23
The commute was gasoline curving through a wet and coastal region, it was a seagull struggling in the wind, it was a flamingo with its head in the water, but it was if you don't like it – keep going, let it happen and never give up the fight
The commute was an obliging herd of goats, it was a formation of mallard ducks sweeping south like spoonbills, it was the extended legs of the black-winged stilt in mid-air
The commute was occasional heavy rain, it was white-horse-coloured clouds labouring across the sky, it was a reluctant calm before a gentle storm
The commute was an unbreakable, thinkers-blue sky, it was motionless turbines and mountains of salt, it was what ifs and wonders all lit by the light of a thousand suns
The commute was occasional yellow-warning rain, it was clouds solid with water, it was the lonely egret preying to the gods to be guided through the wild
The commute was nougat topped with caramel and peanuts enrobed in milk chocolate, it was a huge rhubarb crumble baking in winter heat, it was silver linings and fruitcake-shaped clouds
The commute was a drag, what a drag, a never-ending curve of fenced in hope, it was nature drowned out, pushed back and run over, yet patiently it sat waiting to reclaim all
The commute was thick lines of yellow highlighter pen over damp dark green sat between mirrored skies, it was a direct line through infrequent and casual congestion to the most radical space of possibility
The commute was searching for the perfect beat as in rolled the extreme heat, bleaching the colour of the land, it was me soaked in the sense of summer, the sense of an ending for another year