Driven Down
Been months,
but it still hurts.
Losing camp
to other folks' idiocy.
Driven down,
forced to "Urban Camp".
Not happy,
can't sleep well lately
as longing
for the open places
takes hold
and refuses to release.
Too long
without a silent night.
No peace,
no time left alone.
Always someone
ghosting about scoping me.
No release
from the City's tension,
no freedom
to sit smoking quietly
gazing down
at Salt Lake's lights.
Miss darkness,
not to mention crickets
who serenade
you to deep sleep.
Well, yeah,
but hundreds, not handfuls.
Yearning for
the deer to watch
like sentinels
on a castle wall,
over me
as I finally rest.
Needing it,
I look that way
each day,
feeling my camps calling
stirring desires
for those safe havens
I'd carved
out for just myself
even if
others felt I shouldn't
be there
even under the sun.
Can't wait
for eyes to turn
back downtown
to the shelter area
where trouble
seems to like congregating
so I
can slip back up
spread out my roll
lay down
and find some peace.
Damn, folks.
Just let me go.
It's not
like you want me
down here
holding a sign often
or sitting
in the library daily.
Grant me
just a few nights
each month
with some blissful solitude.
Ain't like
it's a big bill.
After all,
my camp was clean;
no bugs,
no piles of trash
just backpacks
cached for the day
so I
could rest my back
a bit
from their heavy burden.
Want it.
Need it, more likely.
Feeling anger
overwhelming my broken soul
seeking destruction
of me and others.
So if
I manage to disappear
don't pout
just let me recover
from pain
inflicted by your brethern.
26August2013 - Dyfedd Rex
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