Melbourne CBD, Tuesday morning

Never here normally – not at this time,
when people whose lives have rhythms different to mine
disembark into days of meetings, close shaves
and private experiences in close-huddled streets.

Never here normally.
My day is suburban. My schedule’s the school bell.
On other days I walk with books and lesson plans in hand;
today the day is open.
Yet before the city opens
I’ll wander with these strangers
through a city waking up,

a thousand thoughts at traffic lights
blinking slow while phones alert,
and uniforms announce the trade
of souls whose days are not like mine.
Huddled in sleeping bags beneath the eaves;
scarf-clad, suit-clad, hi-vis: all this
says nothing more than glance can catch.

Catch this: the passing self,
the teenage dreams now thumbed to text,
executives touch-typing stress,
the arguments, the expectant dad,
these other selves not normal here.
What’s normal here? These souls whose days
are not – are just like mine.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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