homeless

By Ivy Collier •
I stand alone waiting for a ghost,
There is an old man next to me,
close enough that I can smell his breath,
but we do not belong to the same universe
me with my endless worry,
he with his cane,
make a nice pair of sidewalk trash.
Passing by,
a woman with sad eyes looks understanding,
I cannot help but feel fear,
For when someone knows of this,
we've all become homeless.