Somewhere, an injured squirrel lies in a yard. Turkey Vultures circle overhead, waiting.

Somewhere, a full school bus stops for the last child on the route. The occupants refuse to look him in the eye.

Somewhere, a young man with brown skin is followed by the cops through the aisles of the bodega. It’s not the first–only the latest–time.

Somewhere, rescue workers pull bodies from the burning debris that was an evacuation bus before the explosion.

cold wind

budding crabapple leaves

flutter