The Cart People - A Poem of the Streets

Clatter of wheels
across the pavement's seams
announce their slow, erratic approach.
All they currently own
in shopping carts.

Every fall morning,
and most summer ones,
finds them moving about town
only noticed by others
when blocking paths.

They shift about the town
one day here, another there,
but always end up there,
at some park seeking rest.

Belongings piled high
in those stolen carts,
though most claim they're "borrowed",
bikes in one hand
cart in other.

Their daily journey
is a herald's cry
of daylight's breaking just shortly
or sunset's recent occurrence
amid the darkness.

They roll around our cities,
lost souls of the nation,
battered by their Life's travails
or destroyed by Narcotics' Lure.

Pride still resides
within some of them,
unbroken by Society's uncaring hearts
while others are shattered
by wheel's rhythm.

I see them
every morning while waiting
for the Library to open
and know their sins
and virtues too.

For amid their long journeys
are problems I have avoided,
at least for the moment
some by choice, others, Luck.

Regardless of weather,
they rumble along streets,
some carrying cans they scavenged
others just their bedrolls
among other goods.

Look at them!
Know your own danger
of joining their beaten populace
by a single mistake
or an addiction!

They shift about the city
rolling their homes slowly along
seeking shelter, maybe even redemption,
or the oblivion drugs offer.

30September2013 - Dyfedd Rex