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 a wispy 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 ("'Ello!") ("Morning, guv.") 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