Homeless Man In The South Poem by Eric Cockrell

homeless shelter full;
no spot under the bridge,
too much traffic, and the law.

stole some plastic;
set up a tent down deep
in the woods by the creek....

up above the place where
the cows cross... hauled my
belongings, a few clothes,

books, an old rifle, a coffee pot,
and a few utensils...a little food.
built a small fire... thinking.

what to do? steal a car,
make a run for God knows where?
or just sit here watching my

food and coffee dwindle....
crows cawing in a heavy grey sky....
them cows are starting to look....

like survival!