watch this turn to
arms and shoulders
see how the skyline
bends fog’s fingers
windows feel this
bridge connect nowhere
to somewhere wait
for the comptroller
to cherry pick her blue
signage as she measures
this generation from burden
to expectation to guilt
watch how quickly this
frontage road empties
you from highway to
avenue to intersection
to the closed road where
your mother stands
hands on hips acutely
angled elbows extended
anxiety cocooned by
her featherless wings
your daughter will
forever be your past
