Anthology of dreams (drownedinwords) wrote, @ 2004-12-15 20:48:00

Subway

On the return from
Thirty minutes of limp questioning,
In no hurry for a regular train,
There is a subway-wind
Merely for a breath

And I am New-York again;
Berlin.

It seems cheap
That a bare nineteen can buy
The world beneath both feet

That all these darknesses
Should meet halfway in my mind
And mate their stale air

So my lungs are spinning
With two decades' travelling
Condensed into thirty seconds
Of the journey home.