crossing fate

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