The shelter director calls
	Pick up two women at Wendy's
	One with three kids
	By the bus stop.
Raining, lights, wipers on.
	Here they come:
	Black hoodie with orange bag;
	Red jacket with baby in stroller.
Five and six year olds trail behind.
	Africans
	Immigrants or refugees?
	Escaping war or want?
All fear the front seat.	
	Huddle in the back.
	No belt, no ride I say.
	Getting hot, I say it again.
Tall one moves up grumbling:
	I hate this.
	Buckled now
	Drive in silence save for
Radio playing gospel songs.