HOMELESS

As the last leaf hangs from a tree

verging on decline,

so, is the homeless on the street

hanging to the last piece of bread

from his bony hand.

As the last drop of water on a leaf

waits its turn to evaporate

under the heat of the sun,

the homeless man waits his turn, lonely,

his mouth dry,

he waits for the rain

when the heat is more than hundred degrees.

Next year,

the tree will have new leaves,

fresh colors,

dancing with the light

playing with the birds.

The homeless man is

dead

and

forgotten.