Grey sky in particle matter
press starlight back into stars
but color in trinkets, blue
in the tarp we walk beneath
and listen to, breathing
between double-wide lanes.
The public bus brought me here.
A man with a bled eye searches
for stain-free t-shirts. I sift
through his cart alongside him
for a white size while in the galaxy
meteors drift across our backs. Bird
of light, pushing through fire
meet the earth in his slender hand
breaking change he returns
home, with something for dinner.