Metrosphere 2004-2005
Transfer
On the train downtown,
the sun's in my eyes,
I keep them in shadows
not to go blind.
Beneath the bridge
the thick river flows,
off the train
the blind man knows
no one will touch him.
He is still as though bronzed,
his white cane in hand
as the rush around him
eddies and grows;
the commuters don't see him.
As I pass I think
how strange
to stand still in such darkness and noise;
how strange,
I keep moving while my thoughts stay behind.
I move like machinery,
this empty engine forward,
my drowned mind
back with the river,
the unseen man on the corner,
but I'm here on the bus,
the sun still in my eyes.