On the Streets of New York
More people trudge on every block
Than live in many towns,
Their faces blank or manifesting
Current ups or downs.
I check out what they’re wearing
And the way they stroll or strut.
Deciding which are tourists
Doesn’t take much thinking, but…
I wonder how it feels for someone
From a tiny place
Confronted with more humans than
They’ve ever had to face.
Are they excited by the crowds
They knew that they would find
Or aching for the peace and quiet
That they left behind?
My guess is that the frenzy
Of New York sets them aflame,
But they’re relieved when they return,
At last, from whence they came.
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