He parks the Checker where the curb meets clay
The engine coughs then settles into sleep
A greenhouse leans beside the garage bay
Its panes are mapped with fractures cold and deep
He breathes the night air heavy on his way
He folds his hands like Sunday morning rites
The steering wheel wears grooves from decades' grip
Through broken glass the sodium vapor lights
Paint saints in amber on his weathered lip
The meter sleeps until the dawn admits
Cracked glass hymn he hums beneath the vine
Each splintered pane a note he'll recognize
The tomato plants climb slow in borrowed time
He breathes the chorus where the silence lies
Cracked glass hymn in fractured morning light
The meter dark no fares till dawn arrives
He watches condensation bloom and fall
A hymnal tucked where passenger survives
Its pages yellowed by the garage wall
He turns the key and feels the engine drive
Cracked glass hymn he hums beneath the vine
Each splintered pane a note he'll recognize
The tomato plants climb slow in borrowed time
He breathes the chorus where the silence lies
Cracked glass hymn in fractured morning light
