Friday, September 20, 2019

Faces on Los Angeles Street

More grief than even September can hold --
It seeps through the golden air
And seizes the leaves.

The roads are full of smiles,
Imbued with somewhere else.
The voices grind and stretch
As if the words can't say ...

We were orphaned, all of us, in this city,
To the empty panes of glass
And threadbare sidewalks.
Only the long shadows are left --
We no longer can remember
What stopped meaning in its tracks.

The sun sends down its compassionate light,
For how we never realize
Our suffering is a gift
Only when we don't know why.