A Commuter's Prayer

In the frosted dark of Market Square,
hours before Supermac’s opens,
the camel-backed Magi spark to life.

Stealthy council workers drape streets
with pearls of light, flashing Santas, sleighs;
star of Bethlehem crowning a twelve foot tree.

Beneath the Chemist’s neon crucifix
a hooded commuter sways,
cradling a polystyrene cup.

Gazing at the electronic display,
he offers up a silent prayer
that ‘Delayed’ might defer to ‘Here’.

Suspended between penitent streetlamps,
a fibreglass angel traipses across
the tinted windows of a bus – not his.

Angel unbound in departing Plexiglass,
the 104 lumbers towards its guiding star.

Published in 'Ink Sweat & Tears'