he sat on the roadside
almost indistinguishable
from a thrown off bundle of rags
or the trash that litters a roadway
his treasure in the discarded cans
the forgotton remnants of some party
dusty and waiting for a rainstorm
to wash him clean
cars pass unnoticing
and passers-by pause
but only for a moment to hurl derision
or laugh or just shake their heads
they think he's lost among the lost
and give him the same regard
as a cigarette butt tossed from a car window

if they stopped to look
just one moment into his eyes
maybe the tear streaks
in the grime on his cheeks
or the battered clapboard case
in which he carries his heart
and his guitar
and the small puppy he shares
the little food he finds with could claim
just a moment of their attention
and the finger-picked broken bottlenecked sounds
outpouring of both his heart and hands
might entice you to listen to a song
about the misery now and the good times
good times are yet to come
share that for a moment and the smile is real

as he watches you
with hope and eagerness
too shy to even bum a cigarette
though his song is perfection
full of life and loss, hard work
and being trod on and still infused
with love and hope
owning nothing but his dreams
but nothing is so precious as they are
not even death could make him give them up
everything to him is a gift
a new pair of socks better than the finest toy
on Christmas morning and he has not even that
he still offers up a prayer of thanksgiving
at every meal and to your surprise
is thankful for having someone to share it with
meagre as it is for the puppy loves
simply because it is loved

speaking he greets you
sincere, because the morning is good
and only because it is morning
each day holds the promise of warm sun
or of cleansing rain
and wishes you be blessed, knowing he is
able to find some food and company
hoping you will find joy in the day
in this moment and he sings for you
being there to listen
hoping you will take with you
ever more than entertainment hope and love
do you think perhaps
that such a gift you've stumbled on this morning
might be worth more than something so unimportant
as a little spare change?

COPYRIGHT 2004 Wild Rabbits/Railway View Music and Publishing © This work is the sole property of the Author (Michael E. Warshaw) and may not be reproduced whole or in any part without the express permission of the Author, Publisher or Forum in which the work appears. ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED