Bum

She passes almost silently, a phantom
On the flags, a beauty, clearly unaware
Of me. I watch her image shrink and
Fade. The fog has come. The sun is
Weak. The lights go on in nearby buildings.
I go on. There has to be a garbage can
With things to eat. I move among them,
Lifting lids, almost in silence, within
Reach of others headed home, and
Also unaware of me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 36 times
Written on 2011-11-21 at 15:07

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