The Ritual – 24th November 2025

A blessed pilgrimage
with a hint of purpose;

The glory of the moon
still hanging;

Footpaths
wet with drizzle;

People sniffling,
gambling on a bus that may not come;

Streetlights fade,
worms start to worry;

But the barista is already there,
running through their own ritual.

Inspired by the first couple of lines from this totally unconnected Substack post by Joe Nichols (but it is a fun read on a different topic).