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.