I connect at 14th St. (Revised)
Lost and distraught
E-ward bound,
ten paces away
a man,
an Asian man,
enters the train:
with jet black
hair and a
jet black
stride,
carrying crinkly
plastic bags.
Twenty third
street stop
head drops
to hand,
thirty fourth,
forehead
to chin.
Forty second
street passes
he wipes his eyes,
oranges tumble,
forty ninth st.,
it's mine.
E-ward bound,
ten paces away
a man,
an Asian man,
enters the train:
with jet black
hair and a
jet black
stride,
carrying crinkly
plastic bags.
Twenty third
street stop
head drops
to hand,
thirty fourth,
forehead
to chin.
Forty second
street passes
he wipes his eyes,
oranges tumble,
forty ninth st.,
it's mine.
posted by DeeM at 4:02 PM
1 Comments:
that was so beautiful and in the moment...an unexpected touch of sympathy and heartfelt connection...thanks for capturing that sentiment and sharing it with us! so sweet and simple yet effective. i especially liked the 'crinkly plastic' reference - love the sound and the image! =)
great stuff, keep it going!
xx
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