Saturday. The sky unpeels
itself like an artichoke,
revealing a layer of hidden
blue. Birds, taut as origami,

slow to watch it flood over
the tops of apartment blocks
and church steeples. Cars
laden with their human cargo

ignore the sight and press on
to their destinations. Pistons
thrash against the darkness
of their existence,

eager to taste the light,
bitter and beautiful as salt.