Rush hour in London

To walk the sidewalks

of London at morning rush hour

is to watch power walkers rushing

from bus stops and tube stations;

men with backpacks on scooters

one-footing their way like children

going to school; the peleton of cyclists

riding as hard and fast as the Tour de France,

or given the traffic, the Tour de Chance;

the Wellington Guards being inspected

by officers dressed in black uniforms, who

walk up and down rows of khaki-clad men,

faces fixed and impassive;

the invisible clouds yet pungent clouds

of automobile and truck exhaust (avoidance

of inhaling not possible, so some walkers

and cyclists wear bandanas like bandits);

construction crews already at work rebuilding

and tearing down and rebuilding this city

of mechanical cranes, the one constant

in the life of London; and the working class

father holding the hand of his nine-year-old

son, a boy dressed in his school uniform

of blue coat and blue tie and blue slacks,

the two laughing and smiling, eagerness

and anticipation on both faces.

Photograph by David Dibert via Unsplash. Used with permission.