Day to Day
December 18, 2013 § 3 Comments
My routine with the world
From the time that it takes to drag
My heavy self out of bed,
To the milk I pour on my malted wheats,
To the bus that I amble past the course of
To the tram that crowds my platform.
Every morning I feel the waking ache
Of a hundred people
Sway with the groaning beast that carries us down the track.