poetry

Sidestepping forlorn souls who
Scattered about the streets in SF
Search the sidewalks for clues:

We all knew
the day would come
When we would
lose our youth

If your burden is heavy, set it down
Rest for a bit under a tree, breathe
Gentle breeze or storm, it will pass
Life is Yin & Yang – flux and fleeting

Never let anyone cover you up
Shine pure and bright inside—
Lightning strikes your pride:
Now is the time to grind,

Lost city streets weep
A still, dark puddle beneath

Kids don’t play outside
Enslaved to bright, flashing screens

They sailed away from verdant islands
In search of chocolate and new clothes
Raced around in sports cars, and
Abandoned the farms for the city

Here, as there
a trail winds
among birds
and trees

There is a half-dead possum
In the middle of the road
Hunched over, bleeding
And we drove by

We used to go to the creek
To bathe and fully awaken.
By July, it is nearly dry
A puddle of green waste.