Where the Sidewalk Ends
By Debra Townley
(Inspired by Shel Silverstein)
There is a place where inclusion ends
A place before community begins,
Where the sun burns crimson bright,
And those discarded rest at night.
“You must leave this place!” the Mayor said.
And next we knew, more friends were dead.
We mourn with a walk that is measured and slow,
Walking for miles with no place to go.
Remember our friends who were forced to leave.
Our Mayor gave them no reprieve.
For many, nothing can repair the hate and fear he planted there.
There are limits on the willow’s bend
Marked by tombstones at the sidewalks end.
Debra Townley is a member of Unhoused Response Group in San Jose, California.
Editor’s note: This poem was written in response to a sweep at Columbus Park in San Jose.
