City Song Poem by Nan Williamson

city song

called to a thousand times I never looked back
made my way to the unreal city
stirred by uncountable facets of glass and stone

In the fractal city
students scuffle yellow leaves
scent of sausages frying onions
from Giovanni's cart at the Museum
the insistent jackhammer
rudely cracking concrete slabs
clang and scrape of metals
snap of wood demolition workers in the city's core
screech of brakes blare of horns sirens stop traffic
streetcars rumble plague of billboards flashes
pushing Cartier or Vuitton
voices jumble heels tap pavement
elevators rise to the eighteenth floor
hum of boardrooms loops and grids of sidewalks
suited folk of Bay Street men arm-in-arm
in Rainbow Village shoppers at the Eaton Centre
and the buskers and the beggars
compel our coins

capricious kaleidoscope
diffracting order made of change
a hundred fleeting movements
multitude solitude
art form of the city
ballet of the street
teases city lovers
to move to the buzz
embrace the mad dance

In the violet hour when the human engine moves
in shadow, before the lights go on
the fallen angel shuffles past the corner
past the open chapel door where sometimes we can hear
the choirboys' pure soprano
carried to the evening street to stop us in our tracks
and raise our heads to see
summer stars ignite the wild sky