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Freedom of the homeless (a poem)


ice-castle-in-silverthorne-colorado

In the glass castle

we judged them

for the flaky freedom of their questionable

parenting skills

Funny not to see until now the

freedom of the homeless

It’s fun to be homeless

no responsibilities no worries

My mind turned as the coin with two sides

shadowy life choice revealing

inherent sunbeams

as fresh as the young wild turkey preening in that driveway

not perdue

just at home in the world

And as I walked around the affluent lake

surrounded by pristine homes

spanking with security

and the money that pays to ward off death, decay

the ties between the fundamentalist fanatic

ensconced in the velvet power cape of terror

and the complacent home owner

on his pedestal of moral respectability

came shining through

Darkest absolutes

attempts to anchor, pin, control, erase

uncertainty

have no place in a free world

Unpinned from property

a homeless woman faces flux

naked but for a few meager artifacts

Her fears and joys are her own

No one can terrorize her

She holds light and shadow in her every day

In her uncluttered glass castle

brightness bathes in shadows

and so visible is the reality

from which we all exhaust our days

in an attempt to deny

that in every snarling hyena

smiles a newborn kitten

that every dew-struck bud

conceals the venom of a predator

waiting to strike

Dragging his leg in a limp

gnarled unshaven cheeks sunken

from missing teeth

pity or charity misplaced

You have nothing he needs

identical to you,

faces bathed in sun and

tremulous

night

 

 

 

 

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