sunrise, a time to sleep
bag over shoulder, cart following feet
the light of day is a safety net
for this stumbling, lost man to be
in such a vulnerable position
as that when dreams flow free
nights spent packed up, for warmth shuffling around
searching for a hope or a drink,
his last in a puddle on the ground
for peace, in a hectic, screaming hallow
for the world to just open up and swallow
to feel the smoldering center of the earth,
warm his bones
to feel a part of something, for
the first time since he left home, all those years ago
he imagines the heat burning his pain
like each bubbling blister popping
is years of abuse escaping through his skin
scars forming outward and inside,
an extra layer of protection,
between now, and
the sunrise.