Heartbeat

The dying suns deep crimson glow
bathes black glass faced monoliths

Cars drive, walkers walk, waiters wait
in doorways, bus stops, underground stations

The arteries are clogged right now
as day retires and night resumes
and through them course the city's blood
returning from its ventricles
to its fingertip extremities

to bathe, to clean, to cook, to wean
to cherish loving friendship kind,
to argue, fight and undermine
to goggle eyed absorb once more
the tranquilising cable feed

then rest within their living cells
before the pressure sucks them back
into the cities heart again.

Mineral laden blood finds rich,
rich despite the odds,
light growing slowly
deeply in the low horizon

Warming mauve in January
welcoming trains and buses full
of folk from one place to another

every

single

one

going

somewhere

different

sometimes,

somehow.