A Simple Sonnet
A simple sonnet
The tramp, who sits on a low ledge, near the entrance of the
modest supermarket that sells basic food fruit and vegetable
and to my surprise, has a good selection of wine, is ageless
The tramp- perhaps a wrong word- has a dark brown outdoor face, his hands a dark brown too, and the rest of him is covered in an old jacket and denim trousers.
He is reading a newspaper, eating from an open packet of biscuits and drinking from a bottle of water, our tramp doesn't do begging, but shoppers often give him foodstuff, apples and
bananas; which he acknowledged with a thank you but without servility; exudes a warm friendliness that soothed the many struggling with everyday life.
There is talk of closing down the relic from the eighties, after Christmas when the nice tramp disappears for a few weeks
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