Homeless Henry

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Struggling times

Orange peeled corn liquor, grapes over noons harvest drapes darkened blue starving,

but last night I had concrete knocked from blacktops as freights passed,

1976 I laughed at how mother used to hum church hymns while compassing the kitchen,

baking fresh biscuits from scratch.

I've sailed the sidewalks beyond searching for solitude, seeking the party for homeless acts.

But this time I won't pretend, shoes busted, clothing torn, missed 300 some odd shavings, body worn.

If ever you were looking for me, lost in my own way, buried under my downfalls, broken.

The homeless man revealed himself under Main streets pillars...


Submitted: July 22, 2015

© Copyright 2022 J Mykel 22. All rights reserved.

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