.
Sadness drapes my shoulders
in black clouded blisters
dropping hazy shadows
at a bus stop called nowhere
Blank stare passengers
read out of date magazines
as I sit on the first step
tossing quarters at pigeons
having bird *** in the park

I watch as my fingers twist around
a kite string seeking merely a breeze,
arctic or otherwise to drag me down
the potholed one way street
that leads past your door
Skinned knees and a bruised heart
outline the address where
I once felt welcome,
at least the mat said so

When I hear my name called
over barking dogs and lawn mowers
in need of tune up
and as I look above the silhouette
of the man I used to be
I see myself, choking on his dreams
in a "deliveries only" alleyway
littered with false destinies
and realize I am home