The Intinerant Poem by jan oskar hansen

The Itinerant


When I came to the supermarket the guard was outside
telling the begging gypsies by its door to move away, they
did move but not far they sensed his kindness and would
soon be back; a younger guard is needed to get them off
the premises, one who hasn’t suffered any hardship and
is, by nature, a bit dim. There used to be e skeletal woman
amongst them, she’s dead now, a bit of human fluff that
blew in the wind, I suppose she laughed and smiled once,
when a child, but then she had a baby herself when still
a girl, the newborn was taken away and she became distant,
her eyes seeing a future that had nothing to offer. I used to
buy her a fried chicken and chips; she ate it all and was
thankful for that. Perhaps the kind, but ineffective guard
thinks it is good for us to see that poverty is not eradicated.