Being Anonymous


From a deep darkness,
dirt and ammonia waft their
ancient odors of industry
along tracks rumbling,
tunnel wind rushing forward,
raising anticipation,
quivering the space in front of me,
breakneck thunder coming to a stop
inches from my face.

Inside, the submarine feel,
metal ablaze with fluorescent green,
lighting my ride through darkness,
to somewhere… anywhere.

Such was my subway of grace,
enfolding me with intimate anonymity
while my identity continued its search.