I was not
@first borne
riding a bus,
‘tho an underpass
< that way
led to Gramma’s;
up ahead,
dear hunter,
I said, now &
then, what are
you reading —
runt as I am,
match to his
stride; later
in atlas,
we shrug
side by side,
& Vinland
is grayed,
‘tho Congo
light blue
ayaladn 