Current mood:
sad
When she falls she hits hard.
The crowd walks on, I know it’s a seizure
the way her body twitches,
my hand is on her shoulder,
her glasses are broken,
her forehead is bleeding.
She doesn’t answer.
The cop on the corner
doesn’t want to be noticed. But
he is friends with his walkie-talkie,
“Girl down in front of Starbucks.”
The crowd pushes,
looks at their phones,
and halfheartedly weave.
She says she is from Pennsylvania.
(Post Note: This is the first time I have posted any kind of "mood" since the loss of Dakota Cierra Christina Moler.)
nice...I feel like am there floating above this scene as I read it.
I was just in NYC a few weeks ago. I had a good time.