Mouths To Feed... Poem by Eric Cockrell

the wind called...
and i went walking,
down hard edged streets,
past the abandoned and forsaken...

through dirt and filth,
grime, grease, and soot.
down past the edge of town...
i made camp by the tracks.

haunted by the sounds
of living now just echoes,
echoes and shadows,
shadows almost forgotten.

haunted by the faces,
the dreams, the fires now ash...
the smell of need and
the harsh stench of hunger.

i made a leanto from yesterday's boards,
built a small fire, hunched
against the cold and the howl.
into a small pot all that was left,

and waited for the Guest to arrive.
day became sunset, sunset night.
the darkness wrapped with murky doubt.
then, from behind the clouds,

one star shone through...
and i knew the time,
i knew the answer...
no time for sleep, no sleep for dreams,

i spent the night making ready.
and stood to face the dawn,
with nothing left to hide,
and nothing left to cling to!

a new day, perhaps my last,
one day to make a life.
i turned back towards the town,
and went in search of...

mouths to feed, tears to wipe away!