Stranger In Line Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

He looked
road wearier than the rest of us;
really choked me up
when he spoke.

“Mighty slim pickin’s everwhere
ain't it, just gotta keep movin';
don’t hold up the line.
It’s always a bit of a wait these days
in soup kitchens from here to Baffin Bay;
they all passin' out the plates.

Reckon it's a way to keep on livin'
relyin' on them that's givin'.
No money, no job,
not even family;
it's all blown to hell
and the four winds.'

Glassy eyed, he almost
fell into that empty chasm
where his life used to be
when he snapped,

“So step up when the viddles is hot.
I can’t be wastin’ time, not even
on somebody else’s dime; and I
got me a lot more miles to go.”