Love Hobo

Blooming cherry trees adorn the river
A holly bush houses interesting guests
Outside, a warm breeze shakes clouds of dust
Into a swirl

Balloons of plastic bags float above
A celebration of city refuse.
Not-so-still life in the trailer park
Beneath the bridge.

Strawberries discovered outside the shanty house

Are softly whisked away by a delicate hand. 
They disappear behind cardboard.

The city alive with blaring music from cars
Coming from the lower deck of the bridge.
Summer, when the city is most filled with hope and energy

But the smell of decay and rot is the strongest.
Here by the river, 
Ice cream offerings bring a kind of peace.
The holly bush lady smiles 
A Buddha smile.

Coolness arrives in reds and oranges 
Whose reflection along the nearly still water
Are like Van Gogh and Manet
Wavy waterlike trees, or treelike water,
Either way, the view is priceless
And the sweet lady sings,

“I left to follow love 
and this is where I'll stay.”

The lady of the holly bush rejoices at her fate.

Now the city has turned grey
As if life has passed it by.
The dirty river iced
The trees a white delight.
The lady sits in residence inside her holly hut.
She has herself some company
And they're huddled under coats.
An impossibly large blanket is covering them both.
They sit with foreheads touching
Looking comfy as can be,
and the lady smiles aside and says to gawking me,
"I am a love hobo, darling."
And with that she nestles her head
into her bearded love.
My lonely heart and I walk back
Smiling, a thing with wings.