Though it’s well off the beaten track
The ruins of a house provide
Some shelter to wanderers who lack
a fixed abode where they abide.
Some tramps are educated men
who’ve opted out of the rat race
Yet others can’t go home again
because they left in black disgrace.
And some their inner demons drive
to keep on moving constantly
The travel but do not arrive
just keep on moving endlessly.
Their goal they can’t identify.
They meet and greet occasionally
but keep a wary weather eye.
True friendship is in short supply.
Each man a complete mystery.
They all obey the traveller’s code
You do not ask their history.
The reasons why they’re on the road.
They’re free to go and free to come
Some choose to stay a day or two.
The ruin bids them all welcome
as any haven ought to do.
Though it’s well off the beaten track
It’s widely known to travellers.
For some of them keep coming back
to the sparse comfort it offers.
So when the winter storms draw near.
Stray wanderers start to arrive,
they will wait out the winter here
and do their best to stay alive.
When spring returns their wanderlust
will set them travelling again.
They will not stay but go they must
this hopeless breed of homeless men.
ivor .e hogg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/itchy-feet-story-poem/
