The Subway

Surrounded by souls,

their smells, their joy, their peace, their pain, their poverty.

In the city, people are everywhere.

One cannot help but jump on the train of energy,

deafeningly squealing, propelling everyone forward.

But, I wonder how many stop to question why?

And for what?

Looking around, many let phones dictate their thoughts,

some let music flood their brains.

A man sits next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

He smells of fresh laundry.

Across from me, a weary soul with eyes closed,

a homeless person sleeping in the warmth,

the flicker of a smile across a face recalling a memory.

Everyone exists within each other’s lives,

an intimacy rarely acknowledged with a kind eye or smile.

Clothing, faces, hair, bags, scarfs, — all colors of the world.