A Walk Underground

I drifted through
a wall of sound,
Each ebb paving
a new nirvana.

The first window was lounge,
Another was low and loud.
Each dull thud raising
different notes.

I skipped a beat on one,
and rode on another.
Before I could whistle,
I had already misplaced
the former.

I walked out
of my abode,
Pass a bleached branch,
Mound of molten dust.

Eventually,
we shall turn into the may-flys
when the sun sets to-night.