Morning rushed upon me —
dirty cloth brushing new fabric,
the last of the berries spilled,
breakfast swallowed in haste.
The road was restless.
Shoes bumped against mine,
a bicycle rang,
cars honked as I cut across,
my phone almost slipping away.
I walked through grass,
finding another way forward.
On the shuttle,
voices drifted,
some close then pulling away,
a song tapping the back of my chair.
Beside me, another sat quietly,
a small anchor in the moving crowd.
Work began with sharp words,
yet softened by a familiar voice
that broke through the scolding.
The memory of yesterday’s anger still lingered,
but in lighter tones,
I imagined a playful shirt for October,
a reminder that joy can be worn.
An email came,
membership asked for,
and I stepped back:
“Not now.”
Even refusal was met with kindness.
At noon, I paid,
and a helper’s gentle “thank you”
was returned with quiet warmth.
Still, a headache throbbed,
and the tug of another’s hand
brushed against what I carried inside.
Through spills, honks, and small collisions,
I kept walking —
between the chaos of the street
and the soft gratitude of voices
that remind me:
even in the noise,
I can still find a steady step. 🌙✨
