Walking on stone pavement, rainy, swift
some parts smooth, some parts eroded
pebbles at the feet of sandaled soles
umbrellas swipe the view, fogging you
Cars, bikes, children, zooming against
time, and the rush of voices, tones heard
and I lose myself in this wave of
foreign yet such familiar interference
And I find, curled like newborn babes
But wizened, people, like in prayer
head down, on red, white, blue bags
with hands dangling in peace, towards earth
Their hands, aged like leaves in a distant land
cracks down the back, underneath rough cotton
and skin touches skin as I pry yours open
only to find a single coin, crumpled with pressure
My feet falls behind yours, slackened
Your face is filled of golden sand, ready to
burst, and I know that your veins know
no mercy, as they course hopes through labor
At the ground, pitter patter, are the
sounds of your breath and gaze
And I know we are alike, only
difference, decision, the coordinates
Pitter Patter
Raindrops calling out your feelings, louder
than the commotion around us, drenching
the ground, drizzling the man-made
louder
and
Louder
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
Walking on stone pavement, rainy, swift
some parts smooth, some parts eroded
pebbles at the feet of sandaled soles
umbrellas swipe the view, fogging you
Cars, bikes, children, zooming against
time, and the rush of voices, tones heard
and I lose myself in this wave of
foreign yet such familiar interference
And I find, curled like newborn babes
But wizened, people, like in prayer
head down, on red, white, blue bags
with hands dangling in peace, towards earth
Their hands, aged like leaves in a distant land
cracks down the back, underneath rough cotton
and skin touches skin as I pry yours open
only to find a single coin, crumpled with pressure
My feet falls behind yours, slackened
Your face is filled of golden sand, ready to
burst, and I know that your veins know
no mercy, as they course hopes through labor
At the ground, pitter patter, are the
sounds of your breath and gaze
And I know we are alike, only
difference, decision, the coordinates
Pitter Patter
Raindrops calling out your feelings, louder
than the commotion around us, drenching
the ground, drizzling the man-made
louder
and
Louder
A moment during a visit to my ethnic hometown. Musings on a rainy day in a city of people and things. There are those who have everything to work and fight for. Also, a self-reflection on how we are technically the same people, but our fates are very different.
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