This is an attempt to use a poetry prompt from Robert Peake's Page.
The Leaning Tower YMCA
As we approach the Skokie landmark,
a gaunt homeless man drags his plastic bags
to the Touhy bus stop. Young men with their packs
don't notice. They drink liquid from plastic bottles
beneath the streetlamp poles under starlight
unseen in the pink glow of light pollution.
Their griefs are real to them, a broken heart,
a friend's betrayal. Winters will be kinder to them
than to the invisible one.