Miracles do happen.

Watched him as he looked through an empty cigarette box

Nervously fidgeting at a cider can lying on his cardboard seat

Matted hair hanging scraggily loose beneath a Red Ferrari cap

A greying beard badly in need of grooming.

 

A long black well-worn Crombie over coat

Buttoned up keeping the chill of the day at bay

The tattered sign at his bended knee

Donate to feed the hunger in me. Thank you.

 

Two crutches either side of him

Upright against the wall

He appeared an affable kind, eager to converse

Gathered a small crowd once the harmonica was warmed up.

 

We kept our distance for quite a while

Then proceeded to donate to feed his hunger

Making our way then to complete our town excursion

Deciding to venture back some hours later.

 

We were approaching some fifty paces

In a drizzling rain, when the Crombie overcoat moved

We stood in a shop doorway, astonished

As a lady friend picked up the crutches and they both walked off.

(c) Chris Black. August 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

3 thoughts on “Miracles do happen.

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