by Farasi

The new library is an oddly angled 
Edifice inserted over demolition, 
Downtown winter haven for homeless 
Displaced from alleys by urban renewal.
Now they rest from nine to nine,
Settled in the soft seats by windows
Parked roller bags and carts beside them.
 It’s warm and dry and has a toilet off the 
A place to doze, and dream and talk.
Time was it was easy to spot 
Crazy folk talking to themselves on
The street, the bus, the station benches.
Not so now with cell phones and ear buds.
On the phone folks even talk LOUD in the library, 
Which now needs a quiet room. 
“Don’t Care if you did lose your 
Train of thought. At least you can ride that train
 To a place you call home.? 

Library by Farasi

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