XIII

Courage comes in crowds
This side of the city.
Are tiny bits truly enough
To feed the least of us?

Most men merely boys
Disguised by dirt on their brow;
The rest gave up their spine
Last time the collector came through -
Coaxed them away
Bartered for stale bread
And a drunken view of the valley’s far side.

Hope isn’t lost here.
You wouldn’t know
From the look of this lot,
But it’s not.

Excerpt from Days Long Gone, Part I.