THE UNWELCOME STRANGER

nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

The turning streets
Uneven gutters
Falling rain
Shops eyes shuttered
Sunday still
In working clothes
The growling skies
A bitter cloak.

Homeless shadows
Hopeless ways
Winters approach
In dismal days
A different town
Strangers glare the same
The ragged man
In lifes brutal phase.

A birthday remembered
From a distant place
No candles flame
No happy face
Each step heavier
As he walks on
No good samaritan
No warming sun.

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Comments +

Comments3

  • Ellen Marsell

    The voice of the city and the voice of loneliness.
    I liked the rhythm of the poem.
    Short lines, like the sound of footsteps.

  • sorenbarrett

    Sad, lonely and desolate are words that come to mind with this poem. Isolated on a sea of people, nothing more lonely than that. Nicely done it casts a mood.

  • Lorenz

    difficult to take in all the misery of the world on top of our own...



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