Hand of a Poet

it takes the hand
of a poet
to find the heart
of a clown
and paint it on the face
of a homeless man
standing by a barrel
in the alley...
that has no fire!

to look in the barrel
and see an old man
kneeling in front of
a sobbing child,
deftly removing a splinter
from his tiny shaking hand
with an old rusted knife...

while a sparrow takes flight,
as the clouds on the horizon
come knocking...
and the trees whisper
naked to one another,
things secret, and
full of magic!