on an ice splintered twilight
sits dark in the gloam
a bird on a wire
the others have flown
perhaps they’ve migrated
and left it alone
so I think of the city
and its burnished bright lights
and the plight of the homeless
forgotten at night
as they huddle for cover
and keep out of sight
i ponder on faces
on the mothers that birthed
the ones who have nothing
on this cold planet earth
and the lesson i’ve learned
if your face doesn’t fit
your prospects and future
are worthless as spit