Woman, man,
man, woman,
straight
as corn stalks,
formal as jurists,
knees pressed
together,
palms on thighs,
waiting, sighing
on a wooden bench
at a bus stop
aiming
their blackness
directly at me,
a white guy
in a fancy car,
first in line
at red traffic signal,
forced
to face them,
corner eyed
“Hurry,
green
light,
hurry”
I am praying,
“Go!”