Photograph ©Copyright 2007 by John-Ward Leighton
CONCERN OR FEAR
They have a tired walk
the homeless and bewildered.
The city can be a scary place
even when it's beautiful.
The beauty, of course,
is in the eye of the beholder
when you are looking for a place
to lay your head
in hopes that sleep
will allow an escape from your demons.
You don't see the tidy streets
with shiny shops
and happy tourists, cameras poised.
You have to reply to the voices
in your head
talking to you from somewhere
East of dead.
Your dream surreal and terrible
becomes a 24/7 parable.
So, stunned and dirty,
you wander
mumbling impalpably
for all to see
wilfully remote
from the drugs
that were supposed
to set you free.
The sun warms everyone's back as such
as you pantomime
outside the window
scanning the pavement for butts.
A little one act play
the first of the day
while, Miles long dead,
plays a sweet horn
in my head
and I face my own day
without a tear
feeling smugly superior
and without much
concern or fear.