MORNING ON THE NEW YORK SUBWAY

Louder, the distant rumble grows,
Heralds approaching release, for those
Of that vast breathless, milling flock,
Replenished from some limitless stock,
Who stand at junction of rail and floor.
The vanguard of some implacable foe
That squirms and flows, this way and that,
Filling every nook and cranny with fat
And thin alike, sans rule of law.
Meshing pieces of a sentient jigsaw.
Braving maw of subterraneous beast,
To keep a date with labors feast.

Once inside, impelled by unseen will,
The press grows even closer still,
As one after another, with frantic rush,
Those intrepid souls who move they must,
Find space for self where ‘ere was none.
And even then, the battle’s not won.
Like compressed squeeze of giant bellows,
The closing doors pack tight and close,
Such shrinking flesh as must endure,
Long endless minutes, before same door
Will open, at subsequent stop,
And disgorge its overflowing crop.

But oh, what slight respite is gained,
By the subtraction thus attained.
As more brave souls storm carriage door,
With trampled foot and throbbing toe.
Hoping to join the disconsolate throng,
While those inside, complain anon.
And having gained passage forthwith
Journey to honor the affluence myth.
Knowing full well, at travels end,
Though misery cease, and fortunes mend,
That these proceedings will encore,
When morning comes around once more.

— Bryan Knower

I AM A STRANGER

I am a stranger.
I walk alone amongst the throng.
Like a grain of sand on the shore,
I am a cipher.
Solitude is my cloak,
Anonymity my disguise.
I see you but you are a stranger too,
Unless I let you touch me,
Or reach out and touch you.
I crave intimacy, but I fear it too.
What if I smile and you frown back?
Say something and you ignore me completely?
I fear rejection too,
Maybe more than friendship.
I wonder what lies behind that aloof facade.
Yours as well as mine.
Do you feel as I do?
We are alike after all,
You and I. Unaware of each other
Except a signal be given or received.
But who will initiate contact?
All that’s needed is a gesture.
Even the thought would be a start,
But I am frozen,
Immobile in my indecision,
And so you pass by. And you and you.
A multitude of you, flowing around me
Like a stream around a pebble.
So familiar in your anonymity
It makes me uncomfortable.
But I have said nothing. Done nothing.
Today is the same as yesterday and the day before.
Will it be the same tomorrow?
Still I walk alone.
I am a stranger.

— Bryan Knower

Rain

Scarce warning heralds the spring shower
That drums tattoo on leaf and bower.
Washing clean the air, that moments prior
Veiled all view of heaven’s attire.
A blanket, sparkling over grass and sod,
Erasing all trace of dirt and mud.
Like colors in a painting renewed
Crystal clear and rainbow hued,
Restoring the heart of the sleeping land,
As if by some celestial artist’s hand.

Jeweled tips of twigs and branches glisten here,
Radiant in the canopy of Gaia’s sphere.
Myriad points of light that twinkle and sway
Ere gravity causes sweet disarray.
Joining siblings in one long mad rush
To feed the insatiable thirst of Earth’s dry crust.
While pierced by bright Sol’s ray,
Refracted rainbows twist and play
On each shimmering drop, each glamorous globe.
Courtiers, clad in rustling silk and jeweled robe.

And fleeting though their splendor gleams,
Ethereal as forgotten dreams,
They strut across the darkened stage
While all else stops and pays homage.
A tenuous veil from heaven downcast
Until heaven’s grief be past.
Yet gladdens heart and brightens eye
That bends its gaze at weeping sky.
Knowing well this performance must reprise
In time, when once more, Nature cries.

  — Bryan Knower