Relative End The sidewalk etches the words
deep into the pavement.
I cower at the sight,
bury my face into my jacket,
only to realize that it’s an illusion.
In subway trains, the images blur together,
creating a nonsensical web.
Familiar bustle at the station in late afternoon
is restless and alerts surrounding traffic.
Music arises, light from outdoors,
Pedestrians dance in the streets,
as I drive past at walking speed.
The winds sway a swing at the park,
with sunbeams on its convex shape.
Rectangular blues and purples
reflect the water’s light from a nearby lake.
Downtown bus, unscheduled
stops a few meters away, rounds a curb.
The driver looks back at me,
I am forgotten.
Gravel beneath my feet erodes blisters,
hesitating to take me home.
I hold my breath for a second,
to take in fumes that only pollute me.
The silver maple tree drips water from its leaves,
clean dirt beneath rosebuds holds weariness,
I stand only a few meters away
from dreary weeds that grow.
Dusk in dark gray and blue shades in horizon,
signifies half-moon shadows.
{Samantha Seto}
