Around the barrel at the alley's end
They huddled faceless at the fire
All hoodies and finger-less gloves
All stooped and stained bundles
Forgotten beings living on instinct
Mute souls without a mumble between them
Carrying their life's possessions like skin
Layered deep as a frozen head of cabbage
Swaying with the winter wind dance
Bracing for a merciless bursting rogue gust
Red eyes squint within bowing heads
Glistening grizzled beards of frozen sweat
The tall one's birthday was unknown to him
Here in this earthly alley in a valley on Mars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem