On The Sidewalks

Standing on the sidewalks of New York City
people rushing past me, like a herd of wildebeest
migrating across the breast of Africa.
a cacophony of sights, sounds and smells
that defied identification or description.
Amazement written on my face
as my mouth hung open,
and I stared at this mass of humanity.

A country girl come to the City
trying to pick out single observations
in a kaleidoscope of life whirling by,
walking backwards to see something I missed
bumped and jostled on every side,
a mere fly on the window of life.

These are people! hundreds and thousands
all oblivious of the other, in their own worlds,
I struggled to stem the tide
pushing me relentlessly where I would not go,
I was but a piece of flotsam, floating
on the river of humanity and
carried on the stream of the raging current

Each a person with a life of struggles;
emptiness or fulfilment,
meaningless or significant,
How many were lost in that river?
no one aware of their presence,
rushing past them as they pushed past me
on this day,
standing on the sidewalks of the Big Apple.


One little incident on my first visit to the Big City.

Sharon August 2000







By josharon

© 2000 josharon (All rights reserved)

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