Poetry / Poets

Stray by Amye Nicole Bird

The old man squats,
Shivering, begging,
Finding no mercy,
No refuge,
As his body aches
For warmth, for comfort,
For anything at all
Against the roughness
Of  the crumbling,
Old warehouse building-
So many years abandoned,
Its doors nailed shut,
Windows boarded up,
No way in,
No way out,
No way to escape
The bitter
Piercing fingernails
Of the coldest
Winter on record.
The wild white wind,
Wraps a frigid shawl
Around the old man’s rags-
Tattered and torn,
A constant reminder
Of the desperation
In his exhausted bones,
And the hunger
In his belly.
His watering eyes,
Once a brilliant
Young man’s blue,
Watches as a
Powdery soft
Snowflake mosaic
Paints itself upon
The fine French bistro
Sitting just across
The alley way.
Men and women
Sitting pretty
In the warmth
Of flesh covered chairs,
Meticulously sipping
Exquisite red wine,
Devouring expensive plates
Bountiful of apathy,
And extravagance,
Not once pausing
To take notice,
Of the other world
That exists just outside
The frost covered window.

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4 thoughts on “Stray by Amye Nicole Bird

  1. Hi. I’ve been there many times and I’ve looked through these eyes. I know what they see. Whoever finds himself without anything additional, it takes one long terrifying second to see reality. Without anything additional. So do I. So good to see a sweet lady Amye who can see it too and maybe makes someone have a quick look through these eyes I’ve looked through, of people reduced to nothing additional. Maybe like them, someone who reads this poem will see, for a second, what is real and what never was.

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