Bellows

I am the faded Mexican flag draped across a window, I am the red and yellow leaves skimming across the pavement, I am the greasy fried food on the corner of Mission, the young man on a bike racing past cars that got the green, the Laffy Taffy wrapper clinging to the drain, the marijuana smoke wafting from a basement-level apartment, I am the piles of dog shit drying inside the white fence, I am the ceramic carousels in an old lady’s windowsill, I am the day-glo orange WIC ACCEPTED sign on a gas-station door, I am the air curling in an empty dumpster and lifting to frost the tips of trees, I am the stones folded into the pavement, so tiny and so many.