crossing fate

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shibuya crossing have

all these lives scrambling,

in line passing

in every direction.

 

at some point, we all missed

a turn somewhere

despite preparedness.

we follow along

with the crowd large

enough to ignore traffic

lights and signs

and hope to make it.

 

I wonder if it’s fate

or mistakes

that lead us.

 

I stop at the edge

of the curb.

how odd this

pause—

 

as if in life

we weren’t moving fast enough;

as if in love

we were moved by others;

as if in death

we move on.

 

bydk 02/05/20