And so he sat next to me,
his bloodhound pacing the bus floor,
Round and round in a tight circle,
before settling at our feet.
Sadness hung on the young man
like a soggy blanket,
And my
observation, sharpened by intuition
led me to venture...
"It's cold out tonight."
He startled and smiled: "Why yes, yes it is".

(What do we do for the downtrodden?)

"Is this the bus to Capitol Hill?
I'm going to buy groceries,
my boy here is hungry  and I hope one is still open".
I looked at him closely
"No, this one goes to Queen Anne,
everything's closed for the evening.
Maybe I'm wrong,
I don't think you're okay,
Somehow I know
you're not telling the truth".

He sighed and shrank into himself,
"You guessed right-- I am homeless,
On the streets for a year now.
Me and my buddy,
with no end in sight".

(What do we do for the downtrodden?)

"They took all my things
when my car was broke into,
My entire world shattered with the blow of a hammer,
But at least I've got him,
and he glanced towards his companion,
I'll find a warm vent,
and we'll sit there til morning."

Bartell's was still open
and I opened my wallet,
Some soup, of course, dog food,
roast beef hash and hot tea,
"Please find a good doctor, there are many to help you,
I can tell that you're suffering, give you and buddy a new life."
He thanked me and with a whistle
called the bloodhound to him,
They turned right towards Lake Union,
Fading into the night.

(What do we do for the downtrodden?)