Boston: A Poem
The city feels alive.
My body shakes from the pure energy radiating off of the buildings and from the masses wandering the streets.
Some are going to their destinations: to work, a bar, a concert venue, or home.
Some don’t have homes to go to so they curl up on a street corner, waiting for a bit of kindness from strangers passing by.
Sometimes the kindness is there; other times it bares its teeth then flees.
The ground vibrates as the T snakes it’s way underfoot.
People migrate where their complicated and mortal lives lead them.
I parade right along with them, hoping to find my own path, but inevitably follow where others have been before.