homeless

You are the scraped knee of the child who falls on the blacktop.

You are the stink in the tattered clothes of the broken man who sips his drink from a paper bag.

You are the breath in the life of the old woman who dies.

Go away from me. 

Go away.

Go.

No. 

I will go away.

I will go away from you.

I will go to a place with no scraped knees.

I will go to a place with no smelly drunks.

I will go to a place with no dying old woman.

I will go to a woundless, pleasant, respectable, happy place.

I will go.

I will.

I.

You are the crying child.

You are the broken man.

You are the dying woman.

You are.

You.

Cry your tears upon us for we are hurt.

Lay your dirty coat over us for we are cold.

Breathe your life into us so we might live.

- Trevor Scott Barton, Ordinary Time, 2021