He spotted me
getting out of the car
at the post office
and ran across the parking lot
could I spare a dollar
for a phone call home
Baltimore Maryland, he said
I gave him 3 dollars
he thanked me, his
eyes on the bills
he'd been through town a year ago
I'd given him a dollar then
for the same phone call
I gave it to him because
I'd been on the road
hungry and friendless
dirty for want of a shower
sore from sleeping on the ground
people looking the other way
the horizon close and bleak
I wanted to tell him it would get better
because it got better for me
but I didn't.
It doesn't always
work that way.
It was his business and
I'd been getting mail lately.
Ray Freed
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/saturday-morning-5/
