Homeless

Chinmoy Banerjee

 

I cannot enter

Where he sits

On the freezing sidewalk

Beside the bank

With his head bent on his knees

 

 

The snow has gone

With the rain

But the man who sat

In his wheelchair

Where I cross the street to the coffee shop

Watching people go by

Talking with those who stopped

Is no longer there

 

Nor is the man in the baseball hat

Who weaved his way through the walkers

Passing and re-passing the window of the pizza shop

To be seen

 

The old man with the long white beard

Stands in the doorway

At the side of the barber shop

Conversing with a friend

 

Round the corner

Where the roses and potted plants

Light up the pavement

The man with the black beard

And denim jacket

Hails me as always

With wish for a nice day

The woman sometimes beside him

Is bent on the book in her lap

 

Crossing the street to the new tower

That I have made my home

I see the shopping cart

Covered in blue tarp

An umbrella protecting

Something I cannot see

Under the hoarding of

“Blue Sky” developers

A sign on the cart reads

“Blueberry Hotel”