I purchase a grapefruit soda
plucked from an igloo cooler
by the hands of a tired seller,
each can resting on ice, gleaming.
I stand beside the track, bathed
in the weighted heat of the terminal.
The spirit-breeze has traveled
through darkness, to me.
I ride under city street, skyline,
pupuseria, payday lender, eschaton,
and arrive, ready to be birthed
into daylight. Already walking
my transfer passes, illuminating
concrete and “would be” passage.
