Suppertime

In Pioneer Park
the homeless shuffle
in shoes weighted with sorrow so heavy
that the grass gives way
to the furrows they've plowed with their pacing.


On the playground,
One lone pair of bare feet
crumbling years of dirt
and caked-on memories
eagerly take flight
while the swinger's calloused hands
grasp
long forgotten chains soon made familiar by the rhythm of the swing:
"Back and forth" and "Up and down"
Incanting
Memories
breezing over
granting childish freedom
until Jesus at the rescue mission
rings the supper bell.

--Pamela Dawn