Rags - John E. Blaise

A pile of rags lying in the gutter,
Beside the deserted pavement amongst the debris.
The rags lie motionless amongst the litter,
Greasy, stained rags.
Silent, static, calm.
Surrounded by rubbish, waste encircling the rags,
Coated with filth and grime and dust.
Unnoticed, never given a second glance,
Resting quietly, peacefully in the gutter,
Enclosed covered in dust.
Then very slowly, reluctantly a slight movement,
A stir, a rustle, a sound, a murmur.
Rolling over out of the gutter onto the pavement,
Slowly twisting, turning then shaking.
Rags separating, forming shapes, contours, a figure.
Arms slowly stretching high,hands, fingers, nails,
Legs, feet, toes and rags.
A figure on haunches then stands.
Now erect and straight and still and quivering
They start to rumble along the pavement.
Rags with no face, no features, no hope,
Stumble along towards the pier to the beach.
Stump and clump along the foreshore.
Rags resting amongst the rotting seaweed
Camouflaged, blending, sand, seaweed, flies and rags!

John E. Blaise