seen unseen
know they exist
forgotten ignored
huddled as one
dampness soaking
into the bones
chilling the soul
what needed more
warmth or food

hide in shadows
break from the wind
cars drive bye
people walk by
avert ones gaze
not be seen
constant growl
stomach empty

constant shiver
shuffle of feet
blowing of wind
temperature drops
looking for shelter
anywhere will do
pretend to fit in
be a shopper
read a book
please don't look
ask me to leave

hunger cold
constant feeling
will not pass
only purpose
to survive
another day

and wonder

Raymond J. Denzel
R. Jacob Post Poetic Muses

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die.
- Ecclesiastes 3:1

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