Segment of Morning

Issue 4 | Summer 2020 |



The knotty beams of the sky
crack, and let the rain in:
slowly at first, then the asphalt
blackens, the hiss and patter
of beaded curtains, drawn
gently closed, that separate
this one little spot
from the rest of the morning.

Distant lives that you cannot see
are as close to you as those
in the commuting crate:
the girl across the aisle,
reading; the starving child
in a magazine ad:
petals on different branches.
Nothing you can reach.