stretched
across the sidewalk
against a fence
not, in the coolness of October,
yet awake
dark, their clothes,
their coats
dark with grime, engrained
creases on their faces
pressed to cardboard
utterly discarded, dispossessed
the humblest of our nation
not yet awake
they must share sleep
with the shoes of passersby
they ask of us no questions
they make no demands
they keep on living
just like the rest of us
just for this little while
just like the rest of us
just for this little while
— by Cathleen Williams
