There was no nickel in his pocket
with the likeness of Ann
turning round and round.
The trees were occupied
and did not come out of the office
to enjoy the simple rain,
instead they cowered by their jobs,
stone crawled by stone
and would not look up either.
Robinson’s shirt was rumpled
sitting down and standing
The picture windows reflected
other picture windows
and thought nothing of it,
almost as if they intended to exclude
even a shadow proposed by Robinson.
His broken heart was flying like pigeons
from skyscraper to skyscraper
until man stopped building heads
on Easter Island.