Fair Footing

Under the overpass,

with wet cement,
I waited,

in the rain,
and I was listening for you,
for your footsteps,
and I was waiting for the car to fly off the rails,
because you promised me that you could survive the fall,
and I ate everything out of your hand,

the palm anyway,

but when I looked to the left,
there were rocks,
and gravel,
and brown grass