Commuter Caterpillar

I am walking under the subway,
then over Waterloo Bridge.
8.45 as usual.
Been doing this for years.
The same route.
The same way.
Occasionally recognising
a fellow commuter.
Never speaking.
Always walking,
always hurrying
to get to work,
to earn some money,
to have a life, one day.
But this morning is different:
the sun is glinting,
sparkling on the water
of the majestic Thames.
I am jolted momentarily
out of the monotony
of my automatic pilot walk.
To my left shines dazzlingly
The London Eye, Big Ben,
The Houses of Parliament!
To my right the dome
of St Paul's stands proud.
I want to stop and admire.
I envy the tourist
who is now taking
some photos, leisurely.
I carry on marching.
Tomorrow I must
get up earlier, so I have time to stop
and feed my hungry soul.
Been saying that for years.