The Metro

One of my favorite activities here in NYC is to sit on the subway by a window and stare out at the passing stations, columns, flickers of light between the columns, people waiting with their hands in their pockets or on their iphones...I think of how many times this path in the ground has been taken, by how many forms of life, in how many situations and for how many purposes. I think of how many stories I pass by, how many dreams are being dreamt alongside the bright yellow paint lined gutters, how many songs are being heard through white budded strings. It is all too familiar: that alternating light and darkness streaked by the speed of time over the damp image of a man standing still at the side of the rails, looking in the direction of the train he awaits. It is a typical photograph, or scene from a movie. It had been archived into my library of emotion-soaked visions before, but it is now real, everyday. But what's more, I am now part of it.