Saturday 6 July 2013

One New-Old Poem

Descending

I pace in step down the stairs,
boot rubber echoing throughout the rails,
gusts of wind burbling upwards.

I heard the subways running
about beneath, the shouts of
steel wheels like lost children.

I felt the heated breath of
concrete walls, ceilings of smoothed
linoleum, enshrining myself in.

Drawing deep, airs were trapped
here long ago, times older than
even this body consuming them.

I see this place, strangely clean,
strangely clear, strangely calm,
and readied for today, tomorrow.

I taste the bitter sting of the
flickering lights, burning away
my evening's dull haziness.

I walk the few last steps,
the widening gaps in the floor,

and to the night, drift off.

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