RW (Febuary 23,1952 / France)

He Died Yesterday

Dressed in clothes
Of such old
But not bold
Hope anew

Not bitter
Bitter cold
Melting heart

The street is his home
Strangers are his friends
Dimes and nickels
For some pickles

Spoke with him every day
He had a whole lot to say
About come what may
He died yesterday

by Richard Wlodarski

Comments (3)

Such anonymous people at the subsistence level come into life unwelcome, live here unattended and leave the world unnoticed! They have a lot to say, but only a few kindhearted souls like you pay an attentive ear to what they have to say! A touching write!
The poem has been pared down to the bare essentials- - just like life on the streets for a homeless person. That gives so much STARK atmosphere to this. That is an extraordinary thing to do- -to paint a picture with the sparsest words available- -to cause emotion with this brevity is a display of talent. 10+
What a great writing! All through the poem loneliness is pervading, thanks for sharing the poem with us