On the T

Faces grim with grief or goals unknown,
or slack from lack of sleep or social graces,
or deadened by the will to be alone,
share only stillness as the subway races.
The wheezing metal stutters to a pause;
doors fold to open and admit a crowd
whose laughter draws brief wonder at its cause,
then scorn for riders deemed uncouth and loud.
Each briefcase and backpack abuts another;
brown shopping bags assault a denim knee.
Slickers and wool coats confront each other,
but not their wearer’s anonymity.
At last a faceless voice drones, “Park Street Station,”
dismissing the impassive congregation.

Jean L. Kreiling


Painting from Art History in Contemporary Life series by Alexey Kondakov