The orange lights of the tunnel
and rapid
on the dark hospital rubber blue bus floor.
The tile lines on the tunnel walls rise up fine
so precisely apart
and I watch mine
slowly like power wires
gracefully drooped between peaked downbeats
waiting to see if it will lift its littleness up up and into the ceiling
or air
or droop down again
or out to sea
or vanish
and so it does
and so it does.

I can’t ask of these little things
anything more than the weight
of a feathered
though frantic