it's a long walk home with the sidewalk becoming headphones
footsteps keep the beat, the bass of your breath is baritone
the memories of the street call out in a chorus of overtones
you finally feel at home as you become a walking metronome
you're a movement or overture
crescendo in reverse composure
a serenade that plays over
common resolution, different closure
the repeating beats are deafening
the rising tempo is chasing me
the rhythm is catastrophe
and this is my symphony i made with the streets