An idling truck sends up its fossil-fueled orison
Past the red stoplight, whose twinkle dims
Behind the particulate prayer
Ascending the ashen firmament
That used to snow
The stoplight flicks green and the truck grunts on—
Then slams dead stopped.
A boy has jumped in front with waving arms
And in his cold reddened hand
Takes the mittened one of a child
Overshadowed by the engine hood
Hand in hand, they cross the intersection
And pass over train tracks and by a loose dog
And as the boy’s hoodie and the girl’s winter coat
Recede in the dimming day, she
Leads them on their way
And their warm breath ascends the firmament
Grey Sparrow Journal 