The Eyes of the E-Train were there
Long before anything happened
I cannot remember when
They first began to watch me
Walled eyes of tile stared me down from
Commission date in 'ninety-eight
Until September, two thousand one
Followed me through swallowed horizons
Of pedestrian tunnel—linking warrens
Of underground trail—connecting and crawling
From Trade Center‘s exit to the A-Train, Park Place
And patiently sitting between those two stations
The E-train would rest with wide open doors
Watching the eyes of mosaic while waiting
For eyes that were living to give her their fill:
The E-train‘s next journey to Midtown and Queens
Mosaic eyes and open E-trains
Tailed me in the morning and
Then again at night and I suffered them
Because they kept me warm with constancy
Assured me I could stay inside
The winters are harsh in New York
And their cold eyes began to seem warm
No two eyes in the corridor were alike
And they followed you as you walked
They stared into their mosaic emptiness
Until you passed in front of them
And then they looked straight at you
Were they the eyes of those who lived
Or the eyes of those who would die?
Though I only mused this much later
I still wonder if they had more to say
By miracle they survived the Falls
Hundreds of Eyes on the Walls
Any who saw them before or thereafter
Could never forget those eyes.