Commute

Streetlights have

a dull orange glow,

poor visibility has

the traffic moving slow.

Windscreen wipers

are starting to squeak,

leaving on the glass

one long streak.

Traffic light ahead

has turned red

while a pedestrian

has dropped her bread,

In too much of a hurry

to try and cross

now she’s shaking her head

at her loss.

There is nothing on the radio

worth listening to

just the same old voices

and points of view,

better off if I

switch it to mute

there’s already enough

to annoy me on this commute.