I woke a little late,
missing not one, but two passing buses.
Bus 29 finally came 
I stood beneath the morning sun,
crossed the overhead bridge,
and took my place a little apart 
between distance and discomfort.

A woman with a pram moved near.
I stayed still, but something in me stirred.
A glance, a weightless tension 
sometimes, dislike is quiet but felt.

On the shuttle, I sat with someone familiar.
She noticed another before me 
her greeting floated toward someone else,
soft but distant.

I forgot to turn on the vacuum cleaner this morning.
My mind was full already.

At the locker, a bump 
a brief ache bloomed in my back.
But the day moved on.

Someone returned from leave 
her arms around me just for a moment,
before her joy swirled elsewhere,
with warmth and shopping tales for others.

It’s okay.
I’m still here 
moving through small aches,
watching how people come and go.