Their backs to cold wet weather. Summer again.
Another pair of feet joins the queue.
The shelter won't house half a bus load.
Puffs of breath wind whisked away.

Secretly seeking sun in others' smiles,
that star has left their universe.
Stony stares keep their queue places.
Vital signs of stamping feet,
and fingers twitching keyboards.

One shy solitary smiles, a contact,
no contract needed. Granting her
his daily nod, his thoughts return to bed.