Angels and lace

Today in the sky, a big fluffy white cloud towers up in the sky, amid sandy clouds. Paper bits shed on the pavement, crossed two pietas in the morning trains, angels drawn on someone's belt.

Station Miromesnil, the tunnel walls are black with soot and crammed oily dust. On this darkened walls however, white streaming traces like candle wax having flowed till the ground from an old candlestick or a torch. Is it the entrance of a grotto or an underground hidden world, a Paris below of some kind ?

metro arrival
a shrieking eagle falling
down at my feet

early morning train
seated lost in my music
got off just in time

Arrived on worksite, sky a collection of small hills, street is soaked by the cleaners, my shoes dripping in the water, in the sky a smoky cone inside a white cloudy one, plane tracks and morning clouds are drawing interlaces.