Some will look for life
in a utility hole.

Some will find only futility
buried beneath. A lid

tragically misplaced.
Some will not

know what to do
with such broad shoulders.

How to tilt and shrug

to fit in. Some won’t try
till the others leave and the light

below begins to leak through. Begins
to bathe the street

in amber. Tree resin sighs
in the air. None will notice

how she struggles
to trace the shape of the island

in lilac petals that cover the sidewalk.
How desperate she has become

to prove she does not forget
during the times between.

And how her hand shakes
from the shadowy burden.

A face almost always hidden.
One day someone will show her

how to hold a one-way ticket
tightly enough to keep it

from blowing away
on a windy night crossing.