I.



Grim-faced and forbidding

Their faces closed tight

An angular mass of New Yorkers

Pacing in rhythm

Race the oncoming night

They chase through the streets of Manhattan

Head-first humanity

Pause at a light

Then flow through the streets of the city



They seem oblivious

To a soft spring rain

Like an English rain

So light, yet endless

From a leaden sky



The buildings are lost

In their limitless rise

My feet catch the pulse

And the purposeful stride



I feel the sense of possibilities

I feel the wrench of hard realities

The focus is sharp in the city



II.



Wide-angle watcher

On life's ancient tales

Steeped in the history of London

Green and grey washes

In a wispy white veil

Mist in the streets of Westminster

Wistful and weathered

The pride still prevails

Alive in the streets of the city



Are they oblivious

To this quality?

A quality of light

Unique to every city's streets



Pavements may teem

With intense energy

But the city is calm

In this violent sea