Philadelphia: A Poem

Words as distant lights

Never shining on his corner of paradise

Wrapped in shrouds of fear

and determination

A blanket covering his bony shoulders

A cough, throaty, phlegm-filled

escapes his chapped lips

Corner of 15^th and Girard

Home

An old box from Sears

rain-soaked

Clothes soggy from the moisture

that has seeped through

Seeping into his tired and weary bones

He is 34

A victim of downsizing, abandonment

Creative excuses really

Bare feet slipping on wet earth

He falls

The street musicians strike up

another chorus of “Amazing Grace”

In the city of brotherly love

Brotherly love?!

I don’t even look his way as I

step from the C bus

Into a space vacated by the dissonance

from a cracked and bleeding bell.

Sam