Wednesday, December 30, 2020

On a park-bench

 

On a park-bench, listening to the sound of leaves falling,

he became, suddenly, aware of the sound of heartbeat inside

his chest. The lub-dub of valves closing, then of the flow of

blood through those chambers, out into the arteries, and

around the labyrinthine vessels of his body.


The city silenced, the traffic that had flowed along the three

sides of the park now stationary, he was aware of himself

being present as he had never been to himself before.


Among falling Autumn leaves, a man sits in a state I’d almost

call ecstasy while the city growls continuously around him.

No comments: