At the End of My Way

I sat with my stuff in the middle of the day. One car after another slowed down to look. But only two stopped, and only one came closer. He saw my things were not trash, the other Didn't have enough cash to buy what I wouldn't sell. Under the hot, speckled sky with white clouds moving Slowly and forming shapes above the horizon where Above, behind Heaven's gate the doors swing open. As on Earth, another one opens and somewhere in The distance, children play. But today, one little boy Grinned a toothless grin and his dad were alone. Not speaking my language, we communicated for the Boy's sake, who needed clothes and a bed to sleep on. Thursday, he will pay me whatever he can, for on this Sunday he could not and I could not help but help him, Whether or not he comes back. Dogs bark, birds sing And I hear many motors humming. One man wanted My car, which I wouldn't sell. He left me a note. I also Gave the man a vacuum and never saw him again.