Wednesday, 7 December 2011


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'
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.