Wending way home,
Escaped the smoke.
Tightly packed terraces,
Give way to green;
And relief seeps into being.
For the first time today,
I notice blue skies,
That flash by,
As the train,
Picks up rhythmic speed.
The buildings give way,
And now there’s nature,
Rolling hills & fields,
Rushing passed,
My careworn eyes.
Finally familiar sights,
Of known comfort,
Slow into view.
Pressure’s lost,
At days end.