the hawk hangs her head on the street lamp
blinkers aim left for 101 south
out past the Ikea sign and the Home Depot
past two tall palms and a skinny redwood
broad purple dusk lullabies Palo Alto.
five rubber trees in the cul-de-sac on Tolman drive
one old Chinese woman
an even older British man
Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”
The Weeknd’s “Wicked Games”
Duke Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood”
I pour out one gallon of gasoline
for my grandparents
and another for the drive home.