No rush.

No rush.

So many sleeping souls

The faithless weep

For loss of purpose

Sandmen live in shadow

Schemers and deceivers

Dream invaders

Homewreckers

Moving from house to house

Breaking the bonds

Living by numbers.

Drawing the life

From the innocent

Stealing their dreams

As the city breathes

In fitful peace.

There is courage

And misfortune in abundance,

A chink of light

Across the pavement

So many strangers

Passing close enough to touch

Drawn to a window

By the sound of screaming

Listening and waiting

Hoping for laughter.

Hopeful and hopeless

Are not so far apart

Just the thickness

Of the glass

The width of a curtain

The tile on the roof

So easily displaced

By a gust of wind

The anger of the moment.

Nothing breaks as easily

As the morning

When the sun brings

A sweet relief

And we all stand

In mutual separation

Stacked and packed

In our little boxes

Cheek by jowl

With the changing face

Of the city.

As nature

Lives on

Out there, in the wild

A different kind of progress.