Poetry

Crow Friday Poem: Quiet of the Park

Previously posted in the Virtual Library (Now called Pencliff) and in Vitas Brevis.

I drift off in the quiet of the park where the rustling leaves keep me company.

I smell the meat on the burning wood of a fire pit.

I used to be hungry, now I just curl up in sleep.

Sounds of car tires spin on asphalt, peddling boys on bicycles churn their spindly legs,

traffic lights change from green to yellow to red for all eternity, long after I’m gone.

There’s a coo from a pigeon, a squawk from an agitated crow.

In the distance, I see a turkey vulture tearing up a defenseless squirrel.

I feel the loss of all the people I know.

The cycle continues with or without them, I guess.

The mushrooming gray clouds in the dusk hover over me like a warm quilted blanket

and at this moment, I feel safe.

This patch of grass is where I sleep.

©️mft

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

9 comments on “Crow Friday Poem: Quiet of the Park

  1. Pingback: a grumpy gift: Crow Friday Poem: Quiet of the Park — Crow On The Wire | hands in the garden

  2. You have portrayed very well what homelessness means through a series of details in your poem that relate to our senses. There is sound (“rustling leaves”, cars, the churn of the peddling boys, the birds), smells (the meat) and sight (ever changing traffic lights “long after I am gone”, I like this image, very powerful for its emotional intensity). All the senses are connected to the thoughts, feelings and emotions the homeless person has. Great poem, heartfelt and touching!

  3. Words paint a complete picture…

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