Beginning the Day

Beginning the day with surrender,
taking a break
after miles of detours
in the night,
passing by the dream palace
of the police station,
when all nature
pointed to another
streetwise, mad Stavrogin,
Dostoyevski’s character.

Your Aunt Manya read about him
on your daybed.
He parks a bicycle
near a young child
carrying bouquets.

I’m wishing the ignition would work
and you could meditate on the stars.