The crowd

I scan the crowd
the heat of its passing,
the trigonometry of its structure
and the sense of destiny in its eyes

Bits of it break away
and speak to me
Hello, mate!
Everything OK?
Lovely day

Somewhere deep in there
are slices of anger
fingers of fear
but I do not see them

I sit in the heat of the sun 
and no-one wears a mask
no-one carries a gun
or looks too sharp,
too close

The crowd goes in and out of shops
heads for another street
finds the cathedral on its phone
looks for somewhere to eat

When the sun goes down
it splits into groups
with rough edges
finds somewhere else to play
makes irregular shapes in its head

Sometimes it gets hurt:
sometimes it dies,
but not here, not now
not from where
I’m sitting