Little Girl Lost…
By Felix Perry

Hoar frost coats a Sunday morn scene
day old donuts free but taste good
porridge ladled from a cast iron pot
life stories scratched in table wood
Supermarket cart home on wheels
bottles, rags…little treasures found
long cigarette butts quickly stashed away
need to keep your eyes to the ground
Big cardboard box behind Jo Mac’s Furniture
new shelter from cold North wind blowin
five buck wine from loose change bummed
dull the ache of things best not known
Cheap trick turned in darkened back ally
illegal thrills as he looks down his nose
staunch Sunday morning Christian moans
justification found only Lord he knows
Somewhere mother cries a baby’s name
she’s always listening for the phone
father prays forgiveness on bended knee
thirteen year old runaway dies alone…