Crowds press forward,
but no one looks up.
The air is thick with motion,
yet nothing moves inside.

Screens glow in every hand,
faces flicker like fading neon.
Laughter echoes off glass,
hollow,as if borrowed from somewhere else.

Cars stream by in perfect order,
but the windows are mirrors,
and no eyes meet your own.

A child drops a toy,
no one stops.
A bird lands on a bench,
the only one watching.

The city pulses-
alive in appearance,
but the soul has stepped out for a while,
without saying goodbye.