Because dawn will become unclenched
finger by lavender finger
each morning I awaken alone in field
or shabby overnight room away from you,
child and woman,
I’ll climb off this tiny wheel
called occupation or work
that brings our bodies bitter rest,
bitter food and bitter recreation
and go disguised in my own flesh
through innumerable strangers’
lives like sunlight striking diamonds,
so you may come honorably and whole
after from this sick and divided city
that gives no quarter to us.