For Bartleby by Malena Morling
Tonight I wonder where the man is
who used to stand just inside the doors
of the Lexington Avenue entrance to Grand Central Station.
The full moon is rising. Around the earth, meteors move
through space. Every day for over a year
I walked by him early in the morning
and at the end of the day he still
stood in the same position, arms down
his sides, looking straight ahead
at thousands of people walking
without colliding in all directions at once,
everybody trying to get to a different place.