The Bustle and The Stop
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I found myself in the city again,
Noise like an air raid drill,
Contemplation was impossible
Without sheer force of will.

Found oasis in a corner,
In the fleeting shelter of a door,
Movement became a search
To escape the city’s chore.

Removed from the human river
There was time to breathe and see
The random ballet of pumping legs,
Unconscious dancers performed for me.

The bustle and the stop
Of the people and their feet
Had a purpose and desire:
The walking commerce of the street.

Glances traded in quick exchange,
Some eye contact greedy,
There are lessons in the looks,
They teach you who’s happy or needy.

Press of bodies, crash of voices,
A tunnel made of flesh and...

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Table of Contents

Series Info