I watch from the subway platform
as below, the workers
disembowel what remains of
my dry cleaning store. Piece by
piece they remove the innards
making way for who knows what.
The other would-be passengers
stir restlessly on the platform.
Then I see him.
Leaning against the railing,
eyes closed, he thrusts his face
expectantly toward the sky
trying to absorb every ray
of the early morning sun.
The moment breaks as the platform
begins to vibrate, signalling the
approach of the train. The doors open.
As I enter, Brother Willie comes on my iPod.
11 May 2013