What must daybreak be like
when you’ve slept all night on a bench on the park,
Surrounded by the cool breeze off the river, covered by tall trees,
Your stolen grocery cart in front of you, filled with all those plastic bags?
I can’t shelter you.
On my way to work, off the bus,
wearing my clean clothes and my favorite shoes,
carrying breakfast from a store, the change in my pocket.
What you need, I have.
What you want, I can’t imagine.
What I have is never enough.
I already have more today, but I will want more tomorrow.
I don’t need a thing.
Posted previously on Open Salon