the baby stands in the hands of a man
outside the new cafe
having seen treats handed to dogs
he tries to offer the treat in his hand to the dog
he’s the community baby
the man tells us
he never cries
he’s handed between a clutch of folks
all of them are his
he doesn’t smile
he regards each of us
with his precise eyes
standing in the man’s hands
he’s halcyon
knows nothing but standing
having seen standing
so why not aloft
above the dog
over the sidewalk
in the care of the street
in the hands of the sky