I sit at the bus stop
Peering through crystal frames
Of the opera, try to catch the first breath
Of the teetering poems abandoned by mistake.
What is there in a name? : impossibility that rushes
through the autumn air, and sheds the signs, and gasps,
and unforgotten tilt of head upon a shoulder, two pairs of feet
that shuffle leaves under a fake indigo ceiling; a single tear luminous
behind the window glass, my own and lone reflection to the midnight sky.