Pockets of people and clusters of some;
the running of errands while businesses hum;
The lights all on timers and small garbage lay
on the edges of streets which see traffic all day.

People of purpose all scurry about
to buildings and buses; hop in and jump out:
Opulence here and poverty right there;
and some in between; and one with green hair!

Whistles and horns scare some birds from behind
before they have found all the food they can find;
Noises and voices and scuffling feet all blend
in high decibels here on the street.

The song of the city continues this way, as day fades
to darkness, and then slips away;
the glow of the city seen both far and near
lights the stage for this symphony for all to hear.

01/22/2009

Author's Note: (William Simpson - original pen: 2002; re-worked 2009)

Posted on 01/23/2009
Copyright © 2024 William Simpson