There is an incredible sadness
that sits upon the city like
a dense fog,
if you look close enough to see it.
It tastes sweet in coughed breath
and in the early, endless night
you can see it there, stagnant
through the windows and
the trees.
There is an incredible sadness
that sits in this city,
corrupting slowly and fully
and without mistake.
The people sometimes know it
and can do nothing,
others embrace it,
most do not know it as it
leans and sits about them.
An old man leans his dark
head against the railing
of the Wanamaker building
steps, coughs twice, a
gloved hand covering cracked lips.
Walk past, breathe in
the sweet stagnation of a
fire that no longer has any
wick to uphold it.
There is a sadness here,
If you look close enough.