collected in a torn pillowcase
stained from her
dumpster diving
for yesterday's meal
and those from the weeks before,
she sleeps now
with one eye open,
on her last remnant
of sturdy
packing-box cardboard.
shadows curl around her,
as her fetid breath
spews icily in and out,
keeping time with
the rise and fall of
her dirty, frayed cardigan,
and she shivers against
the blanket of cold.
the broken-souled woman
attracts little attention.
just another body
in the row of
tonight's
homeless
sidewalk dreamers.
© Candice W. Coghill, November, 2011
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