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Holy Man At the corner of 4th and D, holy homeless man sits with palms on thighs, eyes closed above his beard, his packs beside him. Starbuck passengers stoop toward cup. The light is blue because the sky has come down to sidewalk. Silent Holy Man eroded by Nameless wind. Homeless man like a desert saint, rapture long behind him. Empty, the coins drop through light. The street is blessed. Traffic and startled air.
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