A Homeless Man’s Sestina
written by: Ed Sams
Mexicans at Home Depot face the sun
They hope for work; their work boots kick at sand.
Day’s hot already, no breeze, just stale air,
No cloud at all up in the empty sky.
Last night there was a ring around the moon
So maybe there’ll be rain.
Sleeping outdoors is rotten in the rain
As bad as standing all day in the sun.
Waiting for work’s like wishing for the moon,
Or wanting a drink, only to taste sand.
I reach up for that big pie in the sky
Then look inside my fist and just find air.
I beg for change and only get the air,
I pray to God for drink and get the rain,
I look for shade and always find the sky.
The only bright spot in my day’s the sun.
The only soft spot on this earth is sand.
The only friend I got the moon.
Sometimes I think I’ll end up like the moon
Alone and lifeless in the dark night air
On some hard pavement soiled with dirt and sand
Unreadable like newsprint in the rain,
But then that’s nothing new under the sun,
And day or night I won’t escape that sky.
Time was I used to love to watch the sky
And count the stars and wish upon the moon,
Back when I used to be somebody’s son
And took for granted life like so much air
And took for granted roofs nor minded rain
Until time turned all that to sand.
I’m sick to death of food that tastes like sand
And frowning cops that bear down like the sky.
I’m sick of passing stares blank like the moon
Or sharp words out of nowhere like the rain.
I’m tired of dodging cars that steal my air
And watching Mexicans stare at the sun.
Here’s what I know—the sky ignores the sun,
And like as not, the air ignores the rain,
Each life a moon, the moon a grain sand.
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