The Poet In the Subway

Seated in the station At a table he had brought, A poet (as his sign announced) Typed poems that he had wrought. His hands were ready at the keys To tap out a request; Just choose a topic and you’d hear it In his words expressed. He offered me his email list; I added my address. Without disclosing what I do, I wished him much success. I had no need for what he’d write And so I headed home, Delighted that he’d given me A subject for my poem.