On Swanston Street they stride in sync,
bags swinging, thoughts mid-blink
a Marvel tee, a quiet smile,
footsteps drumming city-mile.
Trams hum gossip down the lane,
shopfronts blink in glass and grain,
sunlight spills through urban trees
like caffeine on a weekday breeze.
Strangers passing, stories crossed,
no one counting what is lost
just pavement, chatter, moving feet,
the everyday parade of Swanston Street.
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