7 a.m.

7 a.m.
By Beth Cortez-Neavel
Cities abiotic
concrete-filtered sunlight hitting traffic jams through
sky scrapers’ grids
Barely a sidewalk without footprints left
in chewed- up
discarded
gum
Smells of tar and sewer steam
rise
to meet my
eyes
It is so material –
I can taste it;
Like my coffee with
Two sugars and
One cream,
in a Styrofoam cup,
as I step onto the T in the
Jarring
early morning.
I cover my face with
my hands.
I forgot to bring sunglasses.

0 thoughts on “7 a.m.

  1. Elizabeth – I love this. Reminds me of when I used to work!
    (NYC, Baltimore, Providence)
    I appreciate that it is so acessible.
    Nice work.
    F.S.

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