NO BEACH OR SEA SHELLS

My morning walk, so important to me,

Alone with the dark as comfort,

Mondays always into town

Passing poorly maintained

Row houses, then

Without announcement,

Chained to a paint chipped porch,

Two old rusted bikes grab my attention,

Token-less transportation

Better than walking to work.

Inside the journeymen sleep

Dreaming their wishful fantasies,

At best, a kaleidoscopic future.

I understand so little of their lives,

How they survive, feed their children,

Save for a kitchen table or toaster oven.

I’m outside, but I know in my head, I

Need them, their youth, energy, optimism.

They need me too, to pay cash and

Not abuse their delicate dreams.