Hobo Road Poem by John Anderson

On a twisting road behind me
Full of stones and pits
I spot a lonesome hobo
Who looks pensive as he sits

He sits on a clean-shaved stump
And opens up his shoe
And empties it of dirt
While his toe is peeking through

I walk the path back toward him
Under a canopy of trees
That I've enjoyed so many days
When I didn't have miles to seize

His hands were folded in front
A dark wool cap pulled his head
It looked like he needed a bath
And to sleep in a real bed

I towered over this bum
Ready for his pleas
And felt a little like the Lord on High
With people on their knees

I nodded as he spoke
Still fastening on his shoe
I put my foot on a high, flat rock
As if his answers I already knew

'I could have had it made'
Like he was winding up the words
'If I hadn't taken a wrong turn'
And got what he deserved

'And there's my kid back home,
With only one road to their house'
I almost started to ask him
If he had actually had a spouse

I grabbed a leaf before me
As the fastened branch snapped back
I told him he could follow me
If it would help him get on track

Now he was standing up
The sun was hazing down
He stood before me in silhouette
And he seemed to share his frown

'I'm as smart as you, ' he said
Barely lifting his head
'If the road you took looked like mine,
you could be me instead'

By his tone he was offended
My eyes flipped open wide
For as he turned the shadow moved
And I was looking in my eyes