A pause in the city’s pulse —
the kind of moment you only
notice if you’re looking for it.
A man in a red scarf
waits at the crossing,
steam curling from his coffee.
The wind lifts a page
from the book in his hand—
he doesn’t turn it back.
Somewhere, a horn
draws in its impatient breath.
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Author:
arquious (
Offline) - Published: September 22nd, 2025 00:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments5
Good write A.
A great descriptive poem with wonderful imagery nicely done
good write, enjoyed
Me running for my train as the world watches on.
I used to be so impatient having to sit at a light or being stuck in traffic. Now I use the time to notice things I hadn't on previous trips, sometimes many many previous trips. Thanks for this.
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