Late night elation on a city street,
post feast and revelry in musical
entertainment in religion.
Underneath the trestle, the spirited
revilers throng... silenced
by the cocoons of human
bondage in sleep and death
with cans and wrappers of the day's existence
in snoring oblivion in a ragged blanket.
A street lamp on its side with no light
is the company they keep in safety.
Whose to say they are not the pupae
awaiting a schmetterling enlightenment?
Who will cast a stone of judgement at all?
Silenced, the reveling revilers are revealed.
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Poetry and Prose from Delirious Wanderings
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