The Camera Eye

Grim-faced and forbidding

Their faces closed tight

An angular mass of New Yorkers

Pacing in rhythm, race the oncoming night

They chase through the streets of Manhattan

Head first humanity, pause at a light

Then flow through the streets of the city



They seem oblivious to a soft spring rain

Like an English rain

So light, yet endless from a leaden sky



The buildings are lost in their limitless rise

My feet catch the pulse and the purposeful stride



I feel the sense of possibilities

I feel the wrench of hard realities

The focus is sharp in the city



Wide-angle watcher on life's ancient tales

Steeped in the history of London

Green and grey washes in the whispy white veil

Mist in the streets of Westminster

Wistful and weathered, the pride still prevails

Alive in the streets of the city



Are they oblivious to this quality, a quality

Of light unique to every city's streets



Pavements may teem with intense energy

But the city is calm in this violent sea



I feel the sense of possibilities

I feel the wrench of hard realities

The focus is sharp in the city