Nowhere To Land

He walks many miles with nowhere to land Or stands for hours trying to find a place to travel Days pass, no clock for him he watches the sun move Do you know what it is like to have nowhere to land? Garbage bins are his “Olive Garden” except no breadsticks to eat A pond if he can find one is his juice His clothes cover his skin protect him from rain and wind Do you know what it is like to have nowhere to land? No boards put together for him to stand on or under People do not see him He is his relief Waiting to make eye contact one glance is his only chance You do know what it is like to have a place to land. ©Holly P. Moore January 2013 Dedicated to a homeless man I met and those who desperately need our help.