The land is of grand sequoia trees, the free,
the river to the sea, rockets to the moon
and to Mars
and the tea parties flow with green money
but waiters are forbidden. They have no
clean clothes.
since it is raining on tents in the woods,
the dark bark of trees screens scuttling people
hiding –
they run in night visits to public toilets,
or teeth brushing at spigots, like sparrows
flown away
thrust away, hidden where the night is day,
but for just one meal they’d sail the sea, sing
to the stars, or grow tea on the land.
© Lavinia Kumar
AMERICA TODAY: Heartbreaking Pictures From New Jersey's Homeless 'Tent City'
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Lavinia Kumar lives in New Jersey. Her family includes a variety of cultures and immigrants. Her poetry has appeared in Waterways, Thatchwork (Delaware Valley Poets), Orbis, US1 Worksheets, and more.
