Panhandling on the road to no-where?
A backpack and pockets lined with treasures;
Rocks, Blooms, a circuitry of safety pins and wire.
A page torn from an old book.
A piece of pottery with someones initials.
A patchwork quilt from a nearby church.
An old newspaper article from the obits.
And a dime or two....maybe three...
Perhaps transcending social limits,
or becoming indifferent to material things ?
The eyes might speak,
the tongue would tell Vivid tales..
Miss matched steps
ziggidy zag this way,
ziggidy zag that-
one could take a dozen minds and still not know the way,
Who ever said it was 'good' to know the way ?
Trinkets line the alley ways,
fires burn crisp in the night
as tents are pitched.
The railway is silent except for the 11pm whistle.
Tired eyes still smile at the sound,
even when they are hungry.
'Time had wrestled with the present
and became untied'
Scores of burdens would be held 'only' in the eyes
of those that are still tied.
On Holy Ground the shedding was done,
and the moon was held in cup shaped hands
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