It is dust, death, and hunger
that drives me.

Watching and walking
as other human beings
go on passing.

With each stranger
I imagine a world
written in untold pain.

A lady in an old jean jacket
with long wavy hair
walks out there
on the side of the road.

Carries a load of pain,
as she pushes an empty stroller.
Indentions in the fabric
mark where there was
once a dearly cherished child.
Now sorrow is the shadow
she lives with.

An old man lays still,
cold and stiff
with a whiff
of **** and decay,
as his mutt whines.
A pure white pit bull
with a faced messed up
by years of abuse,
then adopted by this
homeless dude,
poor pup will not move.

Whilst ten blocks away
in a well to do place
an elderly lady
is having her face eaten
by her little darling
chihuahua,
cause there is no one left
to check
in on her.

Then there is me
wandering to see
what is left of this world.

As far as I have gone,
I know I do not belong
because it is a mixed bag
of beautiful and *******
simmering in the inevitable
stew of loss.