lion city

a bustling hubbub of pedestrians,

hopping along the white stripes graffitied into the ground.

the smell of fresh flowers

drifts between the fumes breathed out

by the blue and yellow cars.

delicate fringed fabrics tickle the concrete below,

brushing against canvas bags that swing

merrily above toes

poking curiously out of their sandal homes.

pennies jangle in the soft linings of colourful purses,

like sand eroding the river banks.

orange petals float down, trampled down by the

stampeding feet of busy shoppers,

navigating their way through the

labyrinth of sky high buildings,

that scrape the clouds above,

cruising between the different worlds,

crossing the bridges between cultures,

a smaller world,

a city, an island, a state,

the concrete jungle of Singapore.