sunday

a few hours ago, charlene
got herself kicked out for cussing.
no one had slept much, the whole night.
but now, quiet breakfast noises
have overcome the shelter stink,
the rancor of feeling ill-used,
and the weight of the week.
women and a few men chew pancakes,
blow on their coffee, chit chat.
bent over a sink of dishwater,
someone is crying at the grace of it.

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