This city

I wandered this city without you. Many times. But I know the roads you crossed here. I know the train you rode, making your slow way home every time you had to come into midtown to do something you didn’t really want to do. The minutiae. I rode them too. Your rough hewn jaw set resolutely against the hot subterranean air. Shirt already stale. It’s laundry day soon. I saw the same stranger you saw. You know the one. Ragged shoes, down on their luck. I always make eye contact, change or no change. Reminding myself of I don’t know what. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up like that. Safety net shot to shit. No one to pick me up when I fall. This city has a way of keeping that precipice close.