Here we wait, baby carrier and all,
outside as the minutes drag
up to eight a.m.
Durag, pink Crocs, butterfly leg
tattoo, dreadlocks and Adidas,
Lululemon joggers tight and angled
for the door. They slide open.
Hungover and horn honking,
neophytes in the May morning.
A white egret evades the parkway,
grackles roost in the glowing plastic bullseye.
We walk through the red sliding door,
adjacent to them all.