The City Breathes (a poem)

Why does this city feel like a living thing?

It’s like the people teeming from buildings are all

part of an organism, and the endless concrete breathes

and coughs up dust that suspends in hot air.

We smell a heavy garlic aroma from the restaurant’s

kitchen as we wander down streets, everything happening

with a cohesion like it’s being orchestrated by

a conductor – a couple laughs in the distance, and lonely

boys and girls stride with purpose under tree shade –

the city keeps moving, up in the sky, down deep into the

earth, and as we move, the organism moves too,

and then tucks us in at night.

(Photo by Rikki Chan on Unsplash)