The looming buildings rise, and stand muted,
amid the long rays of the sinking sun.
The subway train rushes its path, rooted,
filled with people, wanting to be someone.
The moon appears; parts of the city sleep:
Metal cranes, urban centerpiece statues.
Their quiet shadows above cement walls, leap
over illuminated conversations.
There: like neon rivers coursing forward,
nightly traffic meanders the shop lights.
Clouds, like pale ghosts of the night, move shoreward,
above a pulsing kaleidoscope of sights.
All the while, the sky's smoke-tortured face
lays solemn, choking in it's plastic case.