Thoughts Drowning

Two footsteps ponder meaning
as they wander side by side,
independently preceeding,
rhythmically keeping time

But the beat of the drum quickens the pace
as thousands of footsteps enter the race.
The steps whose sound was once so clear
suddenly subside.

All this motion-
up and down and to and fro,
where left means right and green means go.
These feet instead need to walk alone
in order to survive.

For when clutter and clamor
consume the air, the mind's
eye will have died.
For on city walks the city talks,
interrupting the rhythmic stride.