Homeless

he lives on the streets.
is somebody's son, brother,
old childhood sweetheart.
no doubt as a kid,
he played in the schoolyard.
began life like most of us.
fairy tales surrounded him.
half toothless, he sits by the curb.
waits for new clothes.
I met him at Starbucks.
says he cut his hand
picking through garbage.
wears a hat with a hole in it.
still he laughs.
swears he has a girlfriend
though she's mad at him today.

speaks of his daughter's blue eyes
and Sunday dress.
holds an old faded photo.
says she's as kind as a kitten.
he hasn't grown tired of love
but knows he'll never find it.

for him life is oblique,
skewed in the city's underbelly,
the scaly streets,
and nerves of night.
but give him a coin and he thanks you.

some days old ghosts rise.
he moans. lifts his fists.
gets lost in his own hurricane.
fights the air.
young tongues mock.
adults judge.

he's lost his rightful human way.
what is the antidote?
some say a faltering brain cannot be repaired.
the sun dims. night returns silence, 
quiet hours for this old soldier.
at his outpost he catches sleep
while the world moves
further away from him.

Waterfront Watch

black smoke, sky trails.
the tug turns, squirms,
then roars upriver.
the wheat has to move.
but with all that commotion,
you’d think a warship was out there.

today no sun.
the somber sky is thick
with swift moving clouds.
a gull pokes blood thirsty
into the glistening waves.
in life nothing dies easy.

we drifted. changed course.
found new waters. but still
hit rocks.
then over the shoals we floated.
all we could do was watch our ship
reach bottom.

today, dockside,
the gravelly air freshens me.
the beach is medicine.
I hear laughter around me.
it strengthen my stride.
I walk. flash on a bright red skirt
and its shiny pearl buttons.
I love her sassy walk.
our eyes meet.
she gives a warm smile.
our thoughts crisscross.
she laughs, curls her lips.
same here.
my senses fly.
ah yes, I'm back.
my heart is beating.
I'm in the right place.