The wind of humanity washes over me
Tugging at my clothes
sucking the breath from my lungs.
My brain is numbed by its coldness
The stream of chatter
Cascades down the escalators
Deafening, drowning.
I am jettisoned into a heaving sea
Jostled by flotsam
In an undertow of metal,
Horns sounding in a fog of traffic.
I lie in a broken surf of foaming cars
The Hebridean gale was never this cruel
The Highland torrent never so raucous
The Atlantic never so un-kind...
Corpse-cold, I drift to a western shore.
(Thanks to Jacqui Thewless for opening my eyes to an improvement to this poem and sharing her skill) .
Nomad Omnia
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/island-to-island/
