They called him Old Aaron
he used to sit in
the Arby’s parking lot
in summer
out there on the table
sun beating down
somtimes he would flash
a toothless grin
he sat on that bench
heat exploding
sun beating down
where did his memories go?
I often wondered if his stories
stayed with him
or was his mind
blank now
from all those years
of being caught
in that life
going downward
on a bitter slope
heat and chatter cold
trapped in a world
he will never leave
where do you go
when you have nothing?
over the years
when fear lurks
under a bridge
under a cardboard shelter
the silk-suited business people
can’t look
don’t want to see
a glimpse of themselves
in his blackened face
in his toothless smile
in his bitter struggle
to survive…
No comments:
Post a Comment