No light shines through grey windows…
Rooms at their backs could be empty
___Or occupied by broken relatives,
Themselves gray and opaque.
Here, on mud-lined streets strollers
Could not care less about secrets
___That families keep; they are distracted
By holes in their socks
And coats other strollers wear…
No light shines through grey windows
___And strollers on mud-lined streets
Could not care less; they are living
The lonely death of the destitute.
Having only recently broken the paint
___Seal around grey windows,
They are now strollers on mud-lined streets…
They are secrets families keep
___Behind grey windows; they are distracted
___By holes in their socks and coats
Other strollers wear.
|