Day 2 - Unabridged

Small children, in mud ankle-deep
A dramatic scene, a caravan, I blink
the scene gone. This bus trundles onwards

to work, whilst memory clouds, quietly
condensation quits the roll
air-con makes us comfort-controlled.

The slatted wooden structure
alone, gathering rain, grime
footfall avoider, acutely nowhere
away from reason; the friendly hut.

So children trudge ankle-deep
mud-inspired to wistfully despise
that aloneness, useless
bridge in potential, visible. Lost.