From stifling coolness
within a parking garage,
from the graphite transfer sound 

of a freight elevator shifting floors,
from the deliberate stride
of his black work boots—echo   

his escape, his eyes,
three lines. 

He motions the wall to tumble,
telephone wires to tense outside
a window, a barricade 

withdrawn. He can no longer conceal,
wills stasis to crumble
into being, the outsized beauty 

of his surround
crates toward a red bird sky.