Morning Commute - June 15, 2025

outcasts all, dressed in black

sprawled on the green grass,

one man sits with ten crows

a gentle picture of camaraderie

in the shade of the park’s

eucalyptus before they scatter

in all directions to pick the edges

of my world’s sloppiness

so much waste, tossed and unwanted

and probably convene back at

the tree to gossip as the sun sets

and as I turn my head to face

the red taillights of commuters

why do I wish I could lay there

with them

sprawling on the cool lawn

and the day could end

with me hungry, not for food

but for the thing

that money can’t buy