I was sitting in the library thinking
about the sunrise and writing
about the slow orange slipping away.
In a script as agile
as a school of dolphins
the mystery could be read
as plain as an embroidered
pillowcase on an antique bed.
At the train station on a long bench
like a church pew I waited
for my departure time then I left.
It’s a wonderful thing that
traffic will grind to a halt
rivers will rise like commerce
to reveal our assumptions
maybe they will float away.
I walked across the walking bridge
an ambulance was stuck on the highway
the steady Colorado had no thoughts.
Literacy has taken a bite
out of our contemporary sandwich
leaving a hole as airy
and a tasteless as truth
Sitting at the bus stop with a ticket to
the next mountain valley the next decade
I hope it is still there when I arrive.