Homeless

/Written late summer 2012
Joan huddled in the corner
As shadows passed her by
The eerie dampness clung
To the slimy grey green wall
The smell was sharp and putrid
So low down on the ground
And she drifted in and out of sleep
Disturbed by every sound!

The trees, first black against the sky
Slowly turned to pink
Then golden leaves began to shine
And birds began to speak!

But! Most of all she gave a smile
For that sweet warm cup of tea
And the human words
Behind the face
For a stranger in the street.

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