Homeless ©

I walked down many streets

searching for the company of

other homeless kids threatened

like me with shorter lives. often,

I waved to the winos sitting at

the recessed entrances to aging

tenements that had forgotten how

to be themselves. I observed craggy 

coffee cups showing in pockets 

used no doubt for hustling change

at the subway station from kind

souls.  the sidewalks cried out to

me,  the clocks displayed in the 

store windows did not tick and

the bruising night reminded me

home was no more than a strange

feeling.  I lived with other kids in

a dead history,  became familiar 

with the shadows giving shelter 

to immigrants,  exiled in the world 

that gave me birth and lacking the

friendship of a single Saint wishing

to know what put me on the street

without appeal. those days haunt

me when I least expect them to 

appear, sometimes triggered by

the wind, a cold afternoon, a bird

song, a train whistle and always 

by the bright promise of living

in a new time.  

h. j. Recinos