The Underground

and her own mind
Desolate and wild as the wind.

Faces along the east-west subway

Faces I didn’t know were there

Till the TTC planned a trip for me

Up a path where wind bites,  blowin’

To Maine where motorized lame keep comin’ and goin’.

Passed imploring arms, out from the walk at a wall.

And a lady screaming she wants to be  left alone

With bags on her arms transfixed under heaven;

And her life

 And her own mind

Desolate and wild as the wind.

Guarding the underground: a man displaying coins in a stack pleasantly solicits more.