The Rover

i’m a rover

i roam the sides

of the city rivers

concrete gullies

gushing water

i must not touch

i sleep beneath

the underpass

in a suit of silk

and dreams

and i walk

among the cars

queued up to alight

upon the highway with

its monstrous heights

and slow belching lows

each coin each bill

and each kind word

i collect is

currency i carry

to the 7-11

to trade for sweets

and cigarettes

i’m a rover

i cut across

the boulevards

and lanes of traffic

and into the bramble

i disappear

like winding mist

i’m a rover

plucking the string

of a yo-yo

i sing to the line

of sparrows

that descend upon

the desolate park

at sunset