He looks into the window
dusty shelves
garment rolls
lapel jackets,
Long sleeves.
Memory
succeeds.
Days of copiousness...
The many needs.
Behind his back,
Society.
Delighted steps,
He took
toward
simplicity.
Like this
humbled deprivation...
The caged soul is
never heard.
It left evidence of the willing
and the absurd.
Lone manikins
draped in evening wear,
Matching eyes unmoving stare.
He blended his memory
into the perfectly round
gold buttons
with silver thread.
Rationing last nights bread,
Remembering the day before
while looking ahead.
Pride lined the way
down ally's the storefronts,
The vacant lots
not missing...
What time had not.
Effulgence remained,
It was throned in the dark...
He owned
he didn't need to beg
borrow,
Or steal.
He just needed
to laugh and feel.
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