Somewhere near Whitehall

 

Somewhere near Whitehall

I saw an empty can crushed

by the side of the road next to

car-bought carrion for crows.

And a colorful sign welcoming

a carcass of a man dead to

a world in which he does not

feel he has a place to pause.

But a cross towers above it all

looking like a telephone poll

signaling the way from death to life 

somewhere near Whitehall.

***