—for Mo

With the feel of your lip balm I walk through the light,
sharp distance of skyline, sun setting behind—

did we notice the foam from the Con Edison plant,
the waves licking salty East River riprap,
exertions of earthworms in cold sidewalk cracks
or chill hook lifted from the homeless man’s catch?

We walked through the sunlight, gloved hand in gloved hand,
our uneven gaits catching patterns sometimes,
our voices unraveling unbalanced lines
that blended or clashed as they waved through the air

impressioning softly the far skyline walls:
the water, the worms, the city become
a room resonant with confusion and us.
We love this world so; we pour into it.

The concrete below me sounds heavy with pounding—
the light of your light in the air lifts it all.