Navigating

I watch the blossom nodding gently
in someone’s front garden
as we pull to another stop.

The bus sags like a breath out
after a long time underwater -
doors hiss open, more people get on,

then we move again and the late afternoon sun
is gold on the newsagent front.

Above the tops of buildings
the sky is almost solid blue,
stable and always the same.

I do not need to go anywhere else to get better -
it happens now every day,

like opening my eyes,

like noticing someone sitting next to me
who has been there all along.