National Poetry Month, Day 8 | Jen Brimmage & James G. Brennan
April 8, 2021
Photo by Jen Brimmage
Perceptions
by James G. Brennan
There's a kind of satisfaction
walking through this quiet street, lights dimming
against dawns rising hue after my night shift has finished.
A pause before the early shift starts when
the odd figure may break up the scene I feel belongs to me
.This time relished when being a lone wolf gets to
roam freely around territory that does not belong to me,
however, it's good to fantasise if just for a short while.
There's always a store open early enough with a delivery
to buy illicit booze giving a slight decadent feeling
as most would be drinking a morning coffee.
I'm happy sitting on the sidewalk
or leaning against a doorway absorbing the still air
swigging liquor from a discreet paper bag
accompanied with a wry smile in the knowledge
I just earned this.
I know this moment will not last long
before its infestation would begin with judgement
labelling me a bum. Maybe they are right.