Outside the Visitor Center—patrons queuing up in khaki camo shorts, baseball caps, Where Big Bucks Lie, boxes of MoonPies wheeling by—two black men with rubber gloves, with Windex, on a July Monday, polish the bronze Lincoln.
Two boys, pink in their manhood, lean over a balcony, full of teeth. Below: a brown man, skin tired of holding his bones. Work falls in shadows around his feet. The Puget Sound is bluer than any dream or sky. The boys loom, pink.