July 9

the voice of reason
a voice of shame and fear
the voice of mute compassion
a voice of confusion and uncertainty
a voice of denial and desolation
the voice of awkward humanity
spoke to me
when you, a stranger
knelt on the busy sidewalk
and spoke gently to the man
splayed against the Pharmaprix wall
his arms flung wide his hands empty
his florid face upturned
“are you all right”  you asked
 as I walked by

Vegas

There's a cross
in the desert sky
where two contrails meet.
An X drawn on a blue so stark
it must mean something,
I think.
Is it up there or down here,
this spot the X marks?

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