Undocumented

—Kathleen Gunton

“pockets lined with dust and fresh hope”

—August Wilson

Between white lines

in the parking lot

he stands waiting.

Now he has found a tree

to lean upon. Quietly

he scans each truck

each oncoming car

a day’s work?

With this loop of words

I tie myself to that tree.

Perhaps you are the one

who understands this.

Published in the 2010-09-24 issue: 
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