Snow settles peacefully down twenty story alleys

onto daughters and sons stoned under cardboard
near grates fuming with waste,
bottles empty, petitions gone hoarse,
aluminum assets bagged in stolen grocery carts.
They rise now in dreams,
onions still fresh under fingernails
black with spare change,
march shoulder to shoulder,
column after column
without flags or banners,
come broken toothed and marble eyed
to scratch at the panes of our sleep.