Getting Ready to Go

My brain is a little too chaotic right now to think clearly about an intelligent post (why start now?) So here is a poem I wrote after a New York visit last year.

From a Sidewalk

Moving against consciousness
beckoned repeatedly into the crosswalks
of neon-lit, variegated turmoil
going both ways at once

the assault on the senses
diminishes with the days
into a rhythm of walking, smelling
stopping, hearing languages

bodies don't touch or bump
get rammed by a taxi
or knocked down by a bike-weaver
on their personal paths to a million destinations

from the New York sidewalk
I called my daughter's cell phone
she was right across the street
but we couldn't see each other