Blue heavens and fair winds
Find favor above clouds.
A multiple spattering of voices linger
under a sea of skies, busily reshaping
without notice from below.
A misty day resembling spilled wax
quiets travelers; hands hold
subway handles and scratched
gray metal poles.
Fast with a furious sway the tunneling
of trench coats and briefcases stand stiffly
next to, ignoring an elbow buddy as
opening doors release stagnant air as
the masses claim escalators to the surface.
A portion of the city is underground
during morning. Painfully and purposely
looking away, ignoring, wishing to be
at a place, repeating everything at five.
Roger Singer 