Poetry of Observation

A homeless woman huddles
In a seat at the back of the bus
Bags, not many, her friends,
Her only worldly possessions,
Keeping her and the seats
Both left and right of her occupied.
She shifts her weight in the direction
Of leaving, exit here,  exit now...
Her warm winter coat slips open
Exposing a rag doll wrapped in a
Blanket who she coos over as if...
Her baby. Real. For one moment I

Choke on the rawness of her madness
As well as on the stench of unwashed 

Humanity she leaves behind on the bus. 

Making it hard to breathe deeply

For a long time after she is gone.