prediction

long-haired man
balances pizza box
as he unlocks the street door
to rickety stairs.
above, there’s one lit window
with a plant on the sill

I wonder over the nutritional value of a large pizza at six a.m.
The part of me which can never stop mothering wants to call out to this stranger, offer to make him some scrambled eggs maybe.

but then
I look up and see the plant
green, thriving
in a walk-up apartment
and decide he’ll be okay.
Imagine his relief
if he knew of
my confidence in his destiny