I’m thirteen
Bus stop walk after 6
Orange lit flickering off fresh concrete
Silent air sliced by footsteps
Every truck light collects
Incremental bursts
For the lamps spilling out
Color to the morning
Plank fence right hand
New homes behind the boards
Chain link left hand
Manufactured and divided
Dawn awakens in steps
Before the bus stop
By the flooding creek
An ambushed drain overflows
My breath is a toy
A minor’s faux smoke
Over my teeths’ quick conversation
Always solo, bundled tight
My fingers inflame
Without cupped warmth
It’s energy vs. exhaustion
And cold air wakes everything up
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