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A FACE IN THE CROWD

In the flood of faces gushing from turnstiles
Each of us sees the other with vacant eyes
Acknowledging we have seen and not seen
Through one another’s mask, each with a task
Known to our silence, deep in thought or dream;

How some faces speak so humbly of desire
Longing for the palpitating heart on fire;
How the old hide their scars of aging romance
While the young boast their youthful staging;
And there is you, there is me, a chance meeting

Like two plain roses in a field of wildflowers,
Telling the tales of our roots and lonely hours
Among the masses seething below the icy towers-
We memorize our reflections as a mirror,
Our faces not afraid to stare, to praise, be nearer.

Editing stage: 

Comments

A beautifully worded comment on life that manages to remain neutral.
PS: I think there is a typo in the first verse, through.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

thanks for comment!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

Enjoyed this read. Especially

Like two plain roses in a field of wildflowers,
Telling the tales of our roots and lonely hours

— it makes me remember our irreducible loneliness, our existential isolation. We might meet, pass each other by, talk and end as lovers, but all we ever truly have is there to be found in our lonely hours.

Reminds me of INXS - The Stairs. One of my favourite songs. Like Michael Hutchence's verses, there is much truth in what you are writing.

Best,
Steph

 

Love,
Steph

... to remember what it felt like to have my being set alight
beneath the moon when I was full and I was dancing with the night
when I could see beyond my sight
when I could see beyond my sight

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