The Quiet of the City

I incline my head,

the breeze tickling my throat.

My fingers dance across the park bench,

catching on brambles in the wood.

I listen to the whisper and whine,

The screams and shouts of the City.

There are people dancing and singing.

The moon kissing their shoulders,

shining it’s gratitude.

The buildings twinkle in the night,

as if in response.

A dog barks across the street,

his tail wags and twirls beneath his feet.

I close my eyes,

the sounds washing over me as a wave.

The City is nothing but loud and boisterous,

but to me the sound calms.

The quiet of the City is nothing at all.

Rather the quiet of the City is a symphony,

a symphony of lives coming together,

each a different key.