Scratched glass and sweat.
Shopping bags straining under the weight of the day.
No keys I mumble. Keys forgot.
A weary sigh. I leave my plastic bag swinging on the door handle and turn around.
God help me now.
Down, down and out I go, into the cool night breeze.
Trudging back to work.
Neon rivulets run down the side of buildings.
Like shining arrows.
The full moon rises.
By the canal, shapes move above me, a croak in the pine trees.
Dark wings beat, invisible.
A dinosaur, a banshee – a heron at night.
The moon drifts and beams in the clouds.
I smile. This world that I see everyday, rendered strange.
By my forgotten keys.