Move quickly, don’t look at them.
Sun still up at six o’clock,
Coats, cushions off long dead couches,
Plastic sheets laid out for five.
20 feet off the highway entrance
On a once grassy incline
They are overdressed
There are two shopping carts.
Three squares and a shower before sleep
Are not on their busy agendas.
Safety and maybe some sleep
Are as good as it gets.
Needles, rock-gut are not visible
Maybe a sharpened kitchen knife
Lie among the detritus.
Who will say tonight’s prayer?
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