A hummingbird has made A surprising home In the pocket of my coat Seems like so long ago I'm not sure now What I wrote back then So many stories derailed somewhere on the line The twisted tracks, the scholar's stacks The altar cracks The morning sun over the station Flooding the shadows with light Refracted through skyscrapers And terminals; a garden of grey A place can become you Its pulse becomes your own It will melt you down Then build you up My mind is covered with burrs Gathered along the trail I can't shake them free Now her lungs are full And she is calling for me