On Lex

I hear the rhythm beside me
like the faint beat of a drum
it flows with the mild breeze
and abruptly ceases, to free
me from my skein of thoughts.

It resumes in a few seconds
once the white man shines
its evenness stands apart
from all the soft voices,
giggles, and clamor around.

I'm focussing on the beat now
but I fear my curiosity may
kill the constancy it shows.
But she walks ahead, not a step
missed as her blue skirt flows.

Between those few blocks I've
heard the rise and fall of strides
before they fade into the subway.


I was on my way to a subway (metro) on Lexington Ave a few weeks back. There was this lady walking near me with such a rhythm in her stride that I was tempted to swing around and take a look. That I did. A few days later when I remembered it, I just scribbled these few lines.