Posted by: Ron DuBour | November 26, 2016

The Tramp~by Karen King



The Tramp

Everyone barging past, full of themselves, in their business suits.
Men’s shoes stomping, women’s high heels clattering.
Coffee cups clenched. Talking on their mobile phones.
Elbows barging, people staring straight ahead.
They look like robots! What a din!
No one sees the tramp!

He stoically sat on the ground,
the cold, hard ground making him numb.
First his bottom, then his back.
Slowly seeping through until all he could feel was nothing.
His hat was just in front of him, with a few five pence pieces,
gleaming from the nearby street lights.
He stared at them emphatically, hoping, as if by magic,
his hat would start to fill.

The tramp really wanted a cup of tea to warm him a little.
The business workers continued to stomp past,
completely unaware of his plight.
One pushed past another and, unknowingly, kicked his hat.
Five pence pieces, scatted to the wind,
lost under black shoes and boots,
kicked into the gutter, rolling frantically towards the drain,
never to be seen again.

Resignedly, he reached for his hat between the throng,
put it on his head, pulled his jacket tightly around him
and settled down for the night.

“Poems for Humanity” Karen King Copyright 2015

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