New York minute

Foot rolls like the flick of a wrist shooting hoops. Toe to heel, same movement more height. More spring, more bounce, more alive. New York is more New York when I move like this. When I can feel my heart and my heel and my clothes pushed against my body by the wind. Bumping shoulders, dodging cabs, hearing the man playing jazz underground as I grab the rail and fling my body up the stairs out the subway. The music plays and the scenes stream by in tune, all in tune, the perfect pace like it was designed for and it all feels right.