Fifteen degrees above zero
A foot of snow on the ground
And the shelter wings through the night
Like the red eye bound from LA to New York
Or the transatlantic flight to London,
Heavy with sleep and dreams.
Here sleeps the Korean taxi driver,
And the Latino construction worker,
The woman with the broken ribs who flinches in her sleep,
The pregnant girl curled next to her lover, and
The man with eyes wide open who steadily talks to god
As if god could hear.
In the gray dawn one by one they will awake,
Look for coffee,
Find bathrooms,
Brush their teeth,
Pack up their bedding,
And prepare to land
In yet another day.
February 14, 2006