Updated: Mar 12
A veteran of the roads, stretched in the sun
The miles have caught up with him, stained
With the underground he brings to the light,
Burnt skin glowing with the dirt-dark of paths;
A young nomad, eyes closed on lost horizons
He's wrapped in the cold of store front steps
Feet in the debris of today, upturned dustbins;
He naps, peacefully nowhere in this centre
Where everything is found, everything lost.
Without mask, exhausts pull at his nostrils
Yet he is far, far beyond and will not respond;
City, wrap him in your armful of alleyways
Keep him close to you, he loved you once,
Now hands empty, palms turned to the world,
He asks for nothing, the nothings you give.