Approaching Copley,

I was going somewhere 

I don’t remember

There was a man going nowhere

I cannot forget

He was black and tall 

and skinny and tall

please can you buy me something, he said

I hesitated

I’m hungry, he said. I mean you no harm

He then laughed 

a rough dry laugh 

like a summer rock on a beach 

the Ocean had forgotten to feed

I hesitated

finally, God announced

I have no cash

I’m sorry

and the Light walked away 

quickly

head down

which was true but I had a red card 

inside my pocket 

with money in a bank 

that some white and tall 

and fat and tall 

man owns far away in the sky 

far away from             here 

and when I passed by Copley again 

I realized              right

behind the man 

there had been a small store

with skittles, and water, and chocolate 

and I walked away 

quickly

head down

maybe I killed this man

His laughter 

rough dry laughter 

still resonates in Copley 

at every train 

while the woman under the blanket 

sitting on the ground

in the street

leaning

on Boylston’s apple 

sings the song of a world

in grief of 

right 

and I think to myself 

maybe I killed the Light