In the all-night grocery store between the local
farmer’s market produce table and rows of greens
prewashed and packaged in plastic a few shelves
with fruit from those other worlds: gold skinned
red-bristled and starred sheathed in husks
or pinched and bruised— Once I saw a small
strip of cane, its drying sugars and high-
priced geometry tagged for some compost bin
Who hungers for you I wanted to ask
Sometimes small birds fly in through sliding
doors and careen in the rafters
uncertain of how they got there