From the bus window
we watched the people
sitting around the needle exchange
tarps arranged against rain
carts piled high
to match their owners’ mental states.
Someone’s sister, daughter, mother.
Someone’s brother, son, father
Too many someones
looking dark, dirty, and desperate.
They watched us on the bus
as we watched them
Each of us in our own cages
looking through our own bars.
.
.
Gordon Campbell. This street didn’t look like this before your time. You have a lot to answer for!
Here’s a good photo on this blog.
Shawn L. Bird 
