Holding All I Have

Leaving all of my dreams
Except the one of being a bike messenger

I rode past a man in an open doorway
Feeding corncobs to geese
Down to the floating market
Where a lone goldfinch flitted around a copper fountain
Of a woman carrying a wine skin

Stopping at the manicured ball fields
Void of children

I remembered the day the wind cried
And we were left to find our way together