Grim faced and forbidding, their faces closed tight
An angular mass of New Yorkers
Pacing in rhythm, race the oncoming night
They chase through the streets of Manhattan
Head first humanity, pause at a light
Then flow through the streets of the city
They seem oblivious to a soft spring rain
Like an English rain
So light, yet endless
From a leaden sky
The buildings are lost in their limitless rise
My feet catch the pulse and the purposeful stride
I feel the sense of possibilities
I feel the wrench of hard realities
The focus is sharp in the city
Wide angle watcher on life’s ancient tales
Steeped in the history of London
Green and grey washes in a wispy white veil
Mist in the streets of Westminster
Wistful and weathered, the pride still prevails
Alive in the streets of the city
Are they oblivious to this quality?
A quality
Of light unique to
Every city’s streets
(«'Ello!»
«Morning, guv.»)
Pavements may teem with intense energy
But the city is calm in this violent sea
I feel the sense of possibilities
I feel the wrench of hard realities
The focus is sharp in the city