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The Homeless Man

The Homeless Man When the wind blows off the water With it’s icy reminder that it’s growing late He puts his head down, pulls his scarf tighter And once again pondered his fate. It seems he thinks more clearly When out where the elements rule They have no respect for his trials They know how daily life can be cruel. The leaves are dancing beside him The dust swirls in some modern dance He wants to take part in the movement Consider giving life one more chance. He’s had constant daily rejections But some how he’s coped with defeat He still clings to a hope for tomorrow This new dawn he reluctantly greets.

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Michael Degenhardt

Date: 11/21/2008 8:56:00 AM

The rhyme within this is perfect and graceful while the imagery presents itself so clearly for a very good understanding and perspective of this mans daily life. Very well written. Michael

Nigel Fawcett

Date: 11/21/2008 7:02:00 AM

You have a wonderful way of observing and writing about the things you see around you. When I was a boy, I used to go for long walks along the river bank and, regularly met an old traveller. Having never paid attention to mum's advice not to talk to strangers, I regularly shared my lunch with him. His name was 'Blue', a nickname he acquired in the war, and he was a real poet. Can still see his face now (though it was mostly beard!). Love, Nigel