Poetry
The homeless asleep, by the dumpster without legs.
He’s in his dream state, in a memorial place.
why don’t people hasten to his needs?
The cherry tree just outside poverty,
Flourishes on the edge of a perfect fence.
Sometimes one seed will plant a new dream.
Why do so many feel not enough, for any one else?
Why do people put what they care about so much on a
Shelf?
Why do we not hold on,
Why do we only let go?
The homeless man with no legs by the dumpster.
Next to memorial drive.
While everyone’s memories on on some
Hard drive.
While someone strives the peace bridge,
For the perfect photograph.
Please bring my grandmother by my side,
hopefully someone doesn’t take away
this turning of the tide.
The homeless man by the dumpster in a dream.
Doesn’t care if his pants are breaking the seams,
doesn’t care about vanity or a mirror,
What do we revere?
Please tell me what we cherish
and what we revere?
Francis A Willey
July 25th 2019