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Sounds of the City

16 Mar
A man, dressed in sweats, plays the violin in the pedestrian tunnel…
Classical.
A woman’s heels are like the horses on Flinders, with too many plumes on their heads…
Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.
The soft hum of the train squeaks to life as it begins to move…
Inch by Inch.
The distant people move in herds, bathed in boredom…
Silence.
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Posted by on March 16, 2013 in Poetry, Writing

 

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Rick Lee James

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