Shades of Morning

Odd creatures in this part of town abound:
outside a shelter which the homeless use
an old man scatters breadcrumbs on the ground,

diverted by the pigeons’ grateful coos,
then plods away flat-footed, streetwards driven
till suppertime. A man, aside, through booze

or TB is by bouts of retching riven.
Another chews, delighted with his feast,
rubbing his boots together, as in heaven

he revelled with the blessed, or at least
a flame of hope had flickered in his heart.
Could these by futile hoping be released?—

damned to perdition from the very start.

Ombroj en mateno