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!”