A LOW GROWL

Wall shadows of arms and legs

randomly move about, voices

flat and muted while hurrying past,

each arriving someplace only they know.

 

From a thick leather chair

I observe the appetite of the city,

sensing their anxious

thirst to achieve that which was greater

than yesterday.

 

Rising from within the masses

comes city voice. A low growl

weaving into the shoreline of people

on sidewalks where the tides swell

throughout the day

in a steady stream under the gravity

of time.

 

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