ARRIVING

The sight of day vanishes as if cut.

Underground tremors release into tunnels

creating monster echoes.

The train becomes absorbed in an ocean

of dark air.

 

Doors fling open. Warm gaseous fumes

slap morning faces.

The platform fills with legs and shoes and

eyes looking down; children are still

home in bed.

 

The atrium fills with a ten thousand breaths.

Sounds recoil off flat colorless walls.

People lines separate to the exits.

 

Doors fling open to streets.

Shoulders weave into streams,

forming rivers of going.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s