in new york city once,
when my son was ten or
eleven and we were
just there for the night
we took the subway
everywhere, and there
was a man, an older man,
working the booth who
winked and smiled at
my son, and said you
don't have to pay,
just go under son, go
under the turnstile
and live a little, it's
fine, i'm telling you
it's okay, and he
laughed with all of
his years behind him,
still on the job,
still in his well
lighted square of home
away from home, watching
the thousands of souls
arrive and leave, finding
some sweet joy in it all,
day in day out, forever.
and so my son went
under, and off we
went into the cold
new york night while
the man waved and smiled
with delight.
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