last night I slept in my car
and woke with the sun
like a farmer
but that the thin lines of rear-window defroster
were stenciled all over the view.
at least in this corner,
is still quiet when the sun rises,
quiet over the lawns and over the concrete sidewalks.
the few walkers-by
gave me sideways looks
they kept those for themselves).
“could he be homeless?”
“a vagrant? a hungover college-boy?”
they ask to each other,
hushed like death in their jogging clothes.