Leaning against a wall, in an underground

corridor in New York City’s Grand Central Station

Is a man holding an accordion

Hands stretched wide

as its lung prepare to exhale

Then its reeds release a husky sound
—a message to hurrying commuters

He sings a song and imagines the air

leaving is to resuscitate a passerby

Like a whale with blow hole
in a vast ocean, releasing its spray

His is a mist of oxygen against a stone wall,
alone, like a wolf, howling in the night

For busy commuters who will dare look up
to see the moon

— Abraham Menashe

© 2017