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Silent Thoughts on the Subway MAG
Lights flicker overhead
Shadows dance on cold floor
Twirling endlessly on the borders of another world,
Like the mischievous little nymphs they are
Appearing, disappearing, and then reappearing
To anyone who has the eyes to catch them
As the train surges onward
Through the winding tunnel
I cling to the hard metal,
Chilled and clammy to the touch,
Towering over the shapeless figures
With roots so deep,
My small lifeline,
My small, tangible comfort
On this long journey
Many voices chat away,
Blending into mindless drones
Sounds of screeching and clanking,
Shifts rapid on the track
Melt away
Sounds of blaring trumpets and striking strings
In the speakers above
Fade into nothingness
All is left is the constant jabber,
Spread by the mouth,
Contagious to the ears,
An airborne virus
Making its way from person to person
Soon connections are made, stories are told
As the train surges forward
Through the winding tunnel
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