Lonely Lincoln.

The city sleeps only after Sunday brunch - two eggs and twice as many mimosas deep. Constant flow, lacking only calm. Make the light. Train. Meeting. Midtown ants make daytime purchases; trucks make evening deliveries. Pictures are taken in Times Square, later shared in Detroit. A balanced push and pull. Twist. Turn. Gears clicking rhythmically. Chaos from the surface. Beauty from within.

Look up. Everywhere. Constant movement. Today's Park Avenue view is not tomorrow's. Good intentions slow the inevitable cranes that transform the skyline. It's an organism, feeding on itself. It will feed on you.

Look down. Locked in. Its lifespan there is short, but be jealous nonetheless. Slowed to a frozen standstill. There for the taking.