looking for warmth on a cold winter day

it was years ago

but seemed like yesterday

i was homeless

 

everything in my world turned

upside down

i won’t explain what took me down

i remember walking the streets

looking and thinking

what to  do next

 

i looked tired

a man motioned me into a

hamburger cafe

he said I looked like I lost my last friend

i told him he must be reading my mail

cause i lost both my luck and friends

 

hamburger and coke were good

I thanked him for caring

and being a friend for the past hour

 

i never looked in dumpsters before

and discovered some food was cooked

and not sold…..it all tasted good

during the winter

 

i discovered abandoned houses

doors unlocked for those who

where down on luck

 

i wrote poetry during the days

where I found warmth in

the local college library

 

all this poverty because i wanted

to be a poet and make a living

from poetry sales

 

many months had passed since

anyone purchased a poem for a

magazine or literary journal

so my pocketbook was lean and mean

 

it was a very cold winder

living here and there in empty houses

eating what I could find

in dumpsters

 

i survived this period

and perhaps

i am better because of this

 

when i see the

homeless,   I stop to talk. . .

take them to a café for a coke and food

and spend time

 

i saw a homeless women carrying

a black trash bag with all her belongings

 

i treated her to a meal at Christmas time

and asked her to tell me about herself

and to tell me how she was doing

she cried nonstop . . .

i’m sorry for crying she says

but no one ever asked me

how I ever felt

and no one before ever bought me a meal

until today

 

 

 

Published by Jim Wortham

As a teen, wanted to live from writing poetry. Wrote several books, selling nationally. Hung out with readers throughout the United States. My writing has been on back burner. Now dusting off my desk and have my pen in hand. Hope you enjoy some of what I write.

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