Poetic Shutterbug

Source: Photo of a blackbird taken at the San Francisco Zoo Blackbird He teeters softly balancing unconscious upon fog dampened phone lines. Feathers his garment, he awakens to windswept mist and shattered street scenes below. Emerging from his protective quarters inside himself, he spreads his wings and surveys concrete organisms below his perch where the cumulus provide a warm, safe haven. He flutters haphazardly on broken streets surrounded by industrial obesity in search of discarded morsels to satisfy his hunger. Innocuous in his size he is not noticed and therefore not seen, though rises above it all naturally gifted with wings of freedom. Homeless His cries hidden sleeping consciously upon garbage strewn pavement. Newspapers his blanket, he awakens to deafening sirens and the morning rush hour. Emerging from the daily news and fetal position he sits ...

Twenty five years ago. I was much younger and working a mindless office job which I despised. However, the job was comfortable and I made decent money. I’d take MUNI down to the Church Street station each day and walk up to the office on Market Street. I’d pass this homeless guy every morning in the doorway of a bar on that same street. He’d never ask for money, though each time I’d pass him I’d ask myself, “why doesn ’t he just clean up and go get a job?" I guess that came from the disgust I had for myself of working a job I hated, so why doesn ’t he? Thank God I’ ve grown much wiser in my old age. It was a warm, quiet and boring morning at the office. I had the door open as I always had on nice days and was sitting at my desk in the front of the office reading a book. Now mind you in that area, on more than several occasions, drunks and the local crazies would walk in the office and I’d have to ask they leave or many times threaten to call the police. On this particular day, t...