Every morning I walk along the river. To get there, first I must walk through the city, past houses of people still sleeping, sometimes encountering a raccoon or skunk, finishing its night of roaming and looking for home. I must pass through the bar district, sidewalks littered with cigarette butts, broken glass, crushed cigarette packs and empty chew tins. The stench of stale beer, smoked butts, and acrid vomit wafts briefly through my senses, my pace quickening to get by, to reach the water. There the life is so different, open, unencumbered by hard-cornered brick. Instead, the softness of marsh and brush, leaves and grass. My walk becomes mediation on vibrant sunrise, lush green, the steady thrum of birdsong.

beside the river
I enter a life, every day
I leave behind

[Prompt: Haibun]