God's children with their rain face on

I opened the windows
to let the summer through
and heard a dog's barked warning
get passed from street
      to street

yet it's not that long ago I went
to the shelter at the bus-stop
to see God's children
with their rain face on
      the rain face that is strangely
      so close to the bone

I watched them chase their bodies home
slicing oily puddles in half on the bike lane
and blinking their hearts
at the distance

I too have thin dreams seep
through the wall of morning
but you said every step
takes us out of the world

before it's flipped on its back
and pecked apart by hope and fear
in a seething desert
- none of which is really our concern
      now is it?

and it's not like there is anywhere to hide

look at her
      the angel whispers
and slips back into the heat-stained crowd

a silver lady in the cool shade
next to the sliding doors
sits with one surviving leg slung
over her wheelchair's armrest

comfortably watching the rest of us
lug beer and toilet paper
and wearing a single
      bright red
high heeled shoe

the only sin is distraction