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.
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