THE POOR

The poor are many.
That's why
we cannot forget them.

Surely
they see
in the morning light
many buildings
they would like
to live in with their children.

They can
shoulder
the coffin of a star.

They can
rip up the air like furious birds,
blot out the sun.

But not knowing their treasures
they enter and leave by mirrors of blood;
they walk, and die, slowly.

That's why
we cannot forget them.