The Calling

[cloud]

we have it all wrong;
the sands are pulling tides ashore
not the other way around.
similarly, people are
pulled from themselves
of familiar estrangement.

as subtle as the air lifting,
nobody will know
the stranger even existed
until after the fact.
like a loon call,
like love.

but,
to be gone
is also to be here.
and
here it is, lingering in the air.
like instinct,
like torrent,
swimming around my head.

the crowd of many individuals
is as a body of no single person.
there are many in the crowd,
but only one man smirked
as if to give off the whole charade.

edited 3/10/2019

with god-created intent
the air lifted and grew thin,
roads lost parallel lines,
and the working class mustered:
buskers and bakers,
men and women
all stood motionless
amidst the wake

one man smirked, as if to give off
the whole charade.

edited 08/12/2019