he rolls his wheel chair each day
looking for food others toss away
checking dumpsters for old bottles and cans
a large trash bag in his one good hand
he rolls from town to town always searching
a scraggly dog trots by his side
crossing streets in blazing sun or biting cold
he rolls with the punches sleeps with the moon
a man hit by the hard knocks
still he smiles pats his dog in shade of life's dark side
a smile for others who see him
some who don't
doesn't faze him... he's been them all
still rolling along the wild streets of L.A.
homeless in the richest land of all... America


by l. b.
sept 3 2012