FLYING

April and I walk

from school

to street corner

to store,

passing out

flyers

for the AIDS Walk.

We curve through the crowded blocks,

shoulder to shoulder,

stream through the streets.

Carol at the Starlight Diner

lets us put a stack

on the windowsill.

Chloe puts some up

in her own neighborhood.

The movie theater won’t take the flyers.

Celestial Treasures does, of course.

Others fly away

in the early May winds.

The last place we hit

is Adam’s lobby.

Put some in an envelope,

label it 11C.

I might never hear from Adam again,

so he might never know:

when he pushed me out

I floated

into the black

and found there

the light of my family and true friends.

And like a real North Star

it guided me home.