Missing

Last seen near the closing newsstand
outside the cigar store angled
at that notorious corner
where some hasten past with eyes
downcast or with gaze clinging
to nothing beyond the propped
stacks of sooty rags settled
on headwaters of dark

rivers at the top of the steps
to the downtown subway while
some dressed for the breaks
in gleaming black revolve their
deliberate invitations
some circle menacing and one
who has been wrung through a long
life into garments with no size

will be delving whenever it is
through the piled cage of garbage
searching for anything all of them
backlit by store windows
arrayed with faded umbrellas
elderly luggage dust-filmed
sunglasses portraits of foreign
beauties from other eras wreathed

in gold suggesting a good
smoke this hand suddenly
there thrust forth palm up out of what
had seemed to be nowhere one
more after so many but this
surprisingly clean and in
that light looking as though it
belonged to someone familiar

almost recognizable
and out of place there the eyes
in the bare youthful face filled
with terror disbelief tears
out of the mouth nothing while the hand
trembling from its recent launching
among these shadows kept boating
away from a figure

of height somewhat less than average
age perhaps thirty or
thirty-five hair blend cropped short clean
eyes no color at that hour but
no doubt blue cheeks pink and clean
body slight but not thin wearing
a short-sleeved striped jersey
clean his feet in white jogging shoes

beside him on a leash his
small part-shepherd bitch well fed brushed
answering to the name Bewama
looking up expecting kindness
standing on hind legs at the sound
of her name to look at his face
happy to be with him and sure
that everything would be all right