First I hear his growling.
Turning , I see him in the dark
shadows of some municipal tree,
standing upright in his winter rags ;
this derelict with defiant eyes
hurling rebuke at the sky, the city,
the total bigness of life –
doing what I ought to , really.
Exulting, I go and stand next
to him, facing the cold night,
almost shake my fists, rebelling.
Till he turns to me, not giving
an inch, shouting insults at me
as if I remain part of it all –
what he is up against.
Not surprised , I nod ,
walk away .