Home strapped on bent torso shoulders
Meaning wrapped in knots on a bed roll.
Streets rolled out west till lost in nightfall.
No room at the inn.

Sunrise coughs offering the day
Baking visions of bread and biscuits,
Coating hopes, causing breath.
Life as a photo album
Missing touch
No room at the inn.

Shuffling on speeding walkways
Talking at striding faces smiling,
Into  voiceless cell phones;
Feeling invisible;
Carrying heartbeats
Eggs in shell
No room at the inn.

The stone rolled back
Invites traveler
Sit and stay, eat and sleep
Know and be known at—
The inn.