It’s earlier than it’s ever been.
We are walking pre-dew. The clouds
haven’t separated. The pavement
hasn’t softened. Morning. Car doors
are closing gently, they don’t know
they have horns yet. Shops are eyes.
Morning! I’ve said it twelve times
to people in fleeces. Their boots have springs.
Their cheeks are crinkled maps.
Autumn is summer if you get up before weather.
Morning. See you soon, pal.

© Carl Burkitt 2021