Homeless
sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway
sputtering neon-
piles of rags weakly lit by
the staccato glow
–
november night-
threadbare blankets
in the doorway
softly falling rain-
I finally let you go
for your sake and mine
–
glass in his hair-
a husband waits
in anguished silence
well past closing time-
we rehash old war stories
over onion rings
–
a dirty booth-
my chipped coffee cup
bottomless
hourglass summer-
memories of time we spent
slip through my fingers
–
driftwood-
a gull’s shadow
passes by
black ink on paper-
oblivious passengers
riding the subway
–
a soft gong-
the model changes
position again
an incoming storm-
thunderclouds vent their anger
on an iron sea
–
hard driving rain-
waves break against
barnacled pilings
awaiting the fall-
swayed by the prevailing winds
rotten at the core
–
scrub grass-
remnants of glass
in peeling sashes
laughter in the air-
mittens and scarves skating past
closed curio shops
–
bistro tables-
bohemian couples
on the grass
stripped down to the waist
sledgehammer and splitting maul
ringing in the sun
–
hazy starlight-
woodsmoke drifts
through the trees
a circle of flame
swirls deep inside the furnace
working overtime
–
rushing water-
the promise
of warmer feet