The girls hold each other up.
Cameras blacken and turn the fire
engines quiet.
An ambulance stalls.
When I see the yellow tape cross the stairs
into the station, I become part of the tallest building,
steady the sun on the sidewalk. Moths rummage
the stomach. The eye strains
sand from water. Sounds
come from boys
braced against a blue mailbox.
I almost do not believe. They are whispering
about me. They are saying something
about the devil. And not a word
about the boy who dared to climb a train.