5: 15 Am {a 'found Poem' Courtesy Of Naomi Shihab Nye} Poem by Shane Markie

In Syracuse, New York,
a light mist hovers
at 5: 15 a.m. I
like it here. Nice
friendly people and lots

Of old buildings. Just
my style. I wish
I were staying longer.
A taxi driver has
loaded another persons luggage

into the truck, thinking
he was the one
who called for a
ride, not me. I
stand with my red

lsuitcase, looking. at his
car. 'Are you room
three-sixteen? I thought
he was.' He hoists
the man's luggage back

out of the trunk
and loads mine instead.
The other passenger sniffs,
'I am waiting for
a limousine, not a

taxi.' This gives the
taxi driver a big
laugh as we pull
out of the lot.