Mission Dreams

Night time creeps up fog like and Bare with street lights bending Shapes into focus. Zombies march to an unheard Song that have no words or reason. A march that must be made. Rows of rows of darkened caves hold within Secrets and mysteries of forgotten lives Whose purpose on this plain was lost Long ago and with a whisper it died.... An with a whisper mourned. Flashes of light streak through the Walk giving pleasure to some and Pain to others whose leather covered Bones ached for release from needle Pricks and crack....and soiled pants. There is no time, there is no earth for These citizens of the dark and ghosts By day who reach out with gnarled hands To caress a death that may never come Leaving them hard and brittle. One for all and all for one, they herd Together under a starless night Awaiting the day when perspectives May change with the dirty light and Mission dreams. *I spent homeless and street time in LA and San Diego starting in 2008. This poem reflects my time on skid row near the Mission.