Flâneur
is a city thing,
for country lanes
are so primordially dark
you might imagine God
sighed in relief
when his first utterance
sparked a sunrise.
To stroll
the New York streets at twilight,
watch the buildings
disgorge their hidden hordes—
as if to create a middle river.
To absorb the lissome change
of day to night
and witness the city
resurrected
in mercurial glory.