I stand amid empty spaces. The walls called “home “ have crumbled. Concrete sidewalks welcome weary feet. I have become the man sleeping on the curb. The woman pushing the stained stroller, bags bundled in the bottom. The pale child standing in line outside an alley kitchen. It has happened to me. Homeless. My strength lies in knowing that from the ruins, remain a scattering of brick and broken lumber—this is the strongest, the foundation. From these I will rebuild my life.
Don’t fear displacement
the final sigh of the wind
will bring the lost home.
Lynn Mari, © 2009
Learning a new form of poetry called “Haibun”, it is a combination of prose and Haiku.
