Runaway

Wearing a sopping sweatshirt,

a teen traverses the transit platform. 

His face a hungery landscape,

hoping for a handout.

A wet chick dropped from the nest

into humanity's downpour,
two fingers extend, begging

a quenching of morning need.

Men and women rush past,

hands full with fresh coffee and pastries.

He climbs the street to a Chinatown

Park.  Sits and shivers the bench alone.

I continue to my appointment.

Wonder why he doesn’t return home.