Captain America
I saw her in the crowd,
big-eyed and silent
hunkered down in a forest of knees
pressed up against the chain link fence
grimy fingers clutching a shabby purple unicorn
hair that ain’t been combed
only bath she’s seen was the rain last week.
All these years
rolling search terms like ancient runes
scanning faces in check-out lines
lurking outside the doors of members only lounges
skimming contact lists
stalking connections of connections
tracking news feeds and status updates
always knowing, hoping, desperately believing
someone
somewhere
must have seen him
must have posted a link, a pin, coordinates
A never dying hope, this dream;
that better days are not behind us
that the view we had was not the peak
that all this
is not a long and scrambling fall.
He would make it right
in him the light
with him the secret, sacred text still lives
All these years searching and there she was.
Captain America
reaching out a scruffy hand
through the rusting chain link fence.
A refugee, reaching for the promised land.
