He brushed through the shortcut,

down familiar alleys, past trash cans

and men sleeping in corners.


Onto a sidewalk, weaving past suits,

hats and shoes; temporary barriers

to the right of passage.


The song of buses, cars and sirens

stir the soup of air hanging over streets.


Further but not farther the arrival is near.

A place not far but worth the challenge

of travel.


Past a park where pigeons, spinning

Frisbees and strollers create a moving



Up ahead the destination.  You’re favorite

steps and door.  The place you call

your own.




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