Fugue State

Standing on a mountain top,
The cresting hill just ahead
that leads to the highest peak,
could there be what I seek?

just a few dozen feet more until
I can see the city below, so
far away now I can hardly tell
the buildings apart

And yet, every unseen human, dog,
cat, pigeon and other creature
besides, every small blade of grass
sprouted from a crack on a sidewalk.

It’s a life, and a life I could very
well imagine the course of, a story
one could obsess over for all of their
own lifetime.

For every year of life in this city,
how many years would it take for one
to observe, and furthermore, afterwards
write it all down and immortalize?

It’s impossible, such is our plight,
We take a dozen people and listen
intently to their stories as they
unfold before our eyes.

A few dozen more, perhaps, we will
meet every now and then, or observe
through a phone screen, and appreciate
but small tidbits of their feelings.

A city of so many millions of people.
Looking down at them, it’s futile to
try and comprehend. A city of a million
people, one of three million, whatever

Does it make a difference? Any and all
are too monumental to comprehend, the
pieces mix and match, in the end it all
blurs into this fugue state of mind.


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