Signs of Winter in America



To be homeless is a reality. far too many of us choose not to see. This is just another of my poems in homage to those lost souls who don't yet know where they will sleep tonight. lmr


I am that dude with
the vacant stare...
the domicile-free one
narcotic smile and
the homeless hair.
My empty belly is
newly filled by
used, half-eaten
Mickey Dees.
My spirit is
quiet, even
yet, my wild mind is still
packed with madness.

My style is minimalist
urban chic.
I am everywhere yet
because you don't see
Hey, over here!

Watch me shiver...
Like a reed thin and damaged
The frenzy in
my left leg
itches and signals
the first gist of winter,
here,  right here in
Drawing by Sebastien Brunet

poem copyright © 2016 by L.M. Ross

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