The Camera Eye

by Neil Peart

Grim-faced and forbidding
Their faces closed tight
An angular mass of New Yorkers

Pacing in rhythm
Race the oncoming night
They chase through the streets of Manhattan

Head-first humanity
Pause at a light
Then flow through the streets of the city

They seem oblivious
To a soft spring rain
Like an English rain
So light, yet endless
From a leaden sky

The buildings are lost
In their limitless rise
My feet catch the pulse
And the purposeful stride

I feel the sense of possibilities
I feel the wrench of hard realities
The focus is sharp in the city