A tire swing
with broken rope
Blackberries left on vine
A walking path dense with grass
forgotten bright sunshine

A rusted bike
empty street nearby
A park with no one there
Endless hours of breezes blow
without someone to care

Trees unclimbed -- rain puddles still
No splashing to be heard
For long ago the children grew
and other than my aching heart
Now nothing is disturbed.

Choose a job that pays
Student loans and hair turns gray
Do what makes you happy they say

Poetry is joy , joy should give a US dollar
Homeless poet written on my collar

Then be a scholar
Choose a job that pays
Student loans and hair turns gray

Call the homebound son
Tell him not to come
home again
There is nothing here

The sparrows are all gone
They took their joy along
wisely leaving
There is nothing here

Emptiness secured a spot
and spoiled all for which we wrought
Cruelly laughing
Now there is nothing here

The memories are all but gone
They too have gone and moved along
Leaving hollow hearts
And echoed calls
Of  ”nothing… nothing here”

Bother me no more
guilty conscience set against me
wish my soul should I abhor.
But slowly running
having  just begun in
this locking out of joy.

Tether not my soul
tearful demon.
Who comes redeeming
the past that I so buried
with quiet scheming
and pain rendered briskly
leaving even tepid sorrow teeming.

Take but one more glance
of what will be no more.
Forever smitten by desires
and ever growing climbing spires
that scream ascending over
what crushed, shall not return
to bother me once more.

It can bother me no more.