Early Morning in Manhattan

Eight million people living here
Yet on my morning walk,
Deserted streets provided
Not a thing at which to gawk.

Behind each window there were souls
In various routines –
Asleep or in the shower
Or engaged in breakfast scenes.

I marveled at the emptiness
In such a busy place
Where no one moseys, but proceeds
At a frenetic pace.

Yet not in early morning
For it might as well have been
Any tiny U.S. city
As the huge one I was in.