You know who
I am, don’t you,
you think I don’t see you
avert your eyes and begin
to talk faster and louder
with your companion or if
you’re by yourself
you look nervously around
for possible sources of help
if you need it and if none
in sight you cross the street
but all you find is
another me,
another you
on the other side
and we are always
the least of these.
Photograph by Ed Yourdon; used with permission for the One Stop Poetry Sunday photo prompt on homelessness.
