the moon swimming in darkening blue,
bears witness to the rolling cars and the stories they hold
as hundreds upon thousands drift obliviously home.
skyscrapers skeletons of a city born
silhouetted by the leaving light,
the towering mountains behind.
for a moment the bus is silent,
we are nothing but the slow steady breath
of metal engine, rubber wheels
shooting an arrow from coast to coast.
heads turn and phone cameras raise
and for a second,
all of us frozen in the amber of the setting sun.
i roll this moment between fingertips,
i hear the thoughts calling from a thousand window lights
a thousand stars flickering on.
we bear witness to each other
and in this way we are heard.
these times the city a whispering dream,
and i dare not break the stillness
fearing the rolling skyline will melt before my fingertips,
seeping like faded watercolours into their reflections below.
if only we may pause in this mirage together
a thousand strangers dancing under the same sky, together.
if only we may press pause
and rest in this second, this arching bridge
underneath the setting sun, together.