Communion

Greyhound fresh
with your blues shoes
and backpack
and back home Mama's tears
still  damp
on your cheek.


Sun magic outline
city block stare
bus stop aureole
glowing haloed girl
all flower fresh bloomed
and debit card and blood of the lamb.


Drifting up to you
gently as smoke,
vacating shadows
I take your burden
over my shoulder
all Lucky Strikes and grave dirt
and one third of the stars.


Melancholy moccasins
keeping time with
black, buckled beat boots
to Main Street Liquor
and four fifty pints
on a dirty grey blanket.


And sunset by the river
shoulder to shoulder
beneath celestial ceiling
we share
Pamplona, and Picasso and Paradise Lost
and potted meat.


Crossing our fingers
we fall in love
a little
for the briefest moment in time.


City scape illumination
reflected in
rushing waters
like Vincent's blurry stars.


At dawn
my boots back on
I will walk you again
to a bus stop pilgrimage
to anywhere next
but my quick broken heart
is rooted

to Downtown mornings here
and my favorite bars
on a sidewalked city street
named for Bill.