Homeless
The woman smiles vacantly
waiting for the bus,
but not climbing on;
eyes lined, hair matted,
hands in moth-eaten gloves.
She talks to a photo
she grasps in her hands
of sorrows and pain of the past,
oblivious to those who stare or ignore her.
Her old knit cap covers reflections
she refuses to share as a
refugee from a life of comfort
now at the mercy of the elements
and the law.
Copyright © Charlotte Zuzak | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment