There were things I just had to survive—
shiny things in my heart—

they were personal until they weren’t
because they burst onto the scene—singing—

made their way onto subway platforms, boxcars
kept on going even after the lights went out

in my house and on porches
all over America—

things so small
they must have been imagined

but now we’re here
standing out in the rain

what is it we seek
and whom have we come to know—knocking.