Textured Tuesday: Sucker Punched by the Sun

Every morning I go to work, I wait for the bus at the corner 

of Capitol and Ohio Streets. And every morning

I look eastward to see whether my bus is approaching.

The architecture along Ohio Street is not enthralling, just the

usual arrangement of row upon row of windows and granite,

but what happens to those windows when the sun 

is reflected from their surfaces just about knocks me down.

Some days the light is orange, on others it is pink, and yet

others a golden yellow. The light creates a series of plaid

patterns, woven multi-hued rays of golden light

that entertain me until I board my bus 

and continue on to work.