We drift about in darkness and light.
Where are we going and why?
An adventure of ....?
Holding hands or thoughts we are a troop of unicorns.
Hoofs a gallop.
Running from the captivity of culture, yet
The herd of unherdables.
Tossing care packages to the homeless along the Cross Bronx Expressway.
Thank you for roaming with me.
I tossed a poem at a homeless woman and she ate from it for a week.
Oh a poetic run from the soul Vampires.
Roaming together we survive.
Alice Byrne is a grandmother, mother, mother-in-law, poet and clinical social worker in private practice in Huntington, New York