Grand Central Lonely

At Grand Central 'lonely'

The workers are all going home

Leaving the dregs of the day

The littered side streets

The delinquent and the hobo

And the street musician

Those who are oblivious to time

Who move in and out of it

With drifting thoughts

More lonely than lonely?

These are the silhouettes

Leaving scattered patterns

Of broken stars

Their long forgotten

[ encores ] ]

Some twist and turn

Some shatter into dust and light

And in the sudden shift, dance with the living

colours cascading down bright rivers

Into a monet or a still life

In one last

'As if to say all men are born alone

They will depart this way'

Yet we who have the' light of the living'

Who shake the dust off the dregs of the day

Who hold no candle for the lost

But carry the same solitary journey

In punctuated arrivals and departures

Have we forgotten that god is in their eyes?

They leave no traces

But in their dreams,

Are they not the angels who have come to warn us?

yvette smith march 2009

poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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