plain-sight

a few stars in the window
my face on the glass, in outline

and nobody knows, but--
the quiet streets are trenches
depth immeasurable,
and the sidewalks the
spreading cracks

and nobody knows, and--
we could hide among the driveways
walk unseen under the palm trees

in plain sight, and in the day light
and there is no one watching

who knows what to watch for

and the last sparks have gone,
have flown-- have fallen,
cold on the sand,
so goes confusion,
the sharp prick of anything
below the stars

we could walk tall, straight
and standing, we could walk
unnoticed, unregarded
there is no one looking
who knows what to look for

we could walk,
unweighed by outlines
in the lee of their reflections
who are caught in their own constellations
walk easy in the shadow
that casts up their eyes as shadow