Streets

Wrapped in rags
Paul survives a late freeze.

He washes in fountain water.
Air dries.

He spends half the day
measuring sunlight

and the heat it leaves behind
in body and stone.

Paul knows everything breaks.
He mends his brokenness.

He knows every break opens him
to reveal what is inside.

But only if he looks deeply
without lying to himself.

He wonders if he is chaff
being winnowed out of society.

Society’s kernels are unaware
he is about to grind them into flour.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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