They All Work

As red traffic lights flash green
and headlights shimmer off of
slick streets amidst a storm of
angry car horns,
I cringe, panic stricken,
until I notice the sidewalk.
The sidewalk peers
up at me through a flood
of hydrated workers fleeing
from their nine to five inconveniences,
protecting their weathered brows,
from tiny wet spears with
headlines from the New York Times.
As quickly as it started
the flood dissipates into
calm silence and I observe
the sidewalk, cracked and bruised
from a stampede of Gucci heels
and Oxford soles, and then
for a split second I can relate.