We wish fair flight for anyone rising from hellish ashes there and here.Since we escaped, it’s not surprisingwe wish wide wings

Some sparrows preferdowntown streets to parksor neighborhood yards.  They peck at grit trodden byrich & poor, bankers & poets,professors &

We’ve hurried pastthe huddled homeless heaped like potato sacks along city sidewalks.  We never envisioned a saintor savior might sleep under plastic over

We can lay down on our backsin the grassand look for starsto wish uponwe can wish for world peaceto abolishhatredprejudicepovertyhomelessnesschild

After picking 50 boxesof grapes, hands stung &bleeding, she restsagainst a haystack,inhales in unison with cows. sheep, a curled dog.Nestled in

Avoiding homelessness Is a jobNo one should haveBecause it is serious and inhumane hard workHowever, I amFacing living on the streetsAnd

Imagine a truce calledover made-to-order coffee—mean words surrenderingto flags of coffee fragrance,dreamy humidity of steam.Envision conflicts re-placed by slurping sounds,the

Sooner or later Writer’s need a real audience Writers need someoneTo listen To what they have written Unless it is a diary or a

She sips gingerlyfrom the cup of“try again,”acknowledgeslife’s lemon wedgebitter-brighton teacup’s rim.She tells us the wedgeis a yellow sailon her spunky