The Subway Is Lit

Oscar Williams

The subway is lit like a great cathedral,
 And myriad shadows whisper and float.
But the eyes of darkness are filled with fury,
 And a scream of steel is in the wind's throat.
The trains are moving like things of madness,
 And the eyes of men have a glassy stare.
Where is the music of holiness?
 And where the uplifted face of a prayer?