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Holy Man

At the corner of 4th and D,
holy homeless man
sits with palms on thighs,
eyes closed 
above his beard, 
his packs beside him.
 
Starbuck passengers
stoop toward cup.
The light is blue
because the sky 
has come down
to sidewalk.  

Silent Holy Man 
eroded by Nameless wind.
Homeless man
like a desert saint,
rapture long 
behind him.

Empty,
the coins drop through light.
The street is blessed.
Traffic and startled air.

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