Shelter
    
    Today the rain washes from the air
    innumerable particulates
    thrown up by the tyres
    of innumerable lorries
    carrying industrial shelving,
    of innumerable Volvos
    carrying management consultants,
    warehouse to warehouse, motel to motel,
    in the service of Holy Mammon.
    
    I am grateful for my bus-pass,
    for the graffiti on the shelter,
    and for the ivy breaking through.
    The earth is the mother of us all,
    eventually even-handed. 
    I am grateful for the rain,
    the swish of tyres in the puddles
    and the hope of new worlds
    which I may never comprehend.
    
    GCW 26/08/2011