riding the Q across the bridge
smoke stacks puttering
cars hissing below
another subway mumbles
and screeches on the metal tracks
I observe the faces of people
reading and tapping their feet impatiently

we are stuck: suspended in mid air
on the Manhattan Bridge

the Q-train an orange circle in the grey day

from the windows grey water
industries and projects on Lower Manhattan
the occasional barge floating down the East River

rattling and humming towards Grand Street
we start again
I can now see Roosevelt Island
and on the other side the Brooklyn Bridge
we are soaring in between buildings

we begin to enter the depths of the tunnel
into the heart of Chinatown
getting ready to begin a new day