This Man


what is it that keeps this man

that i see on this corner
with that look on his face 
every morning, sitting, slumped 
and breathing on the
wall of the garden where
he must be sleeping every 
night, wearing those same 
clothes every time that 
i see him?

                  what keeps him
going on?  what keeps him
from throwing himself in front
of a train?  what keeps him?

it is so easy for me to think
that it would be so easy.

will I see him in the spring?

I am kept by these things.