A Nicer Ashtray Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

Each day he scans the sidewalk
Sure as a loser's bet
Intent on finding, smoking
Discarded cigarettes

This little block his kingdom
Where pavements promise tokes
From butts thrown down by shoppers
Who seldom finish smokes

Months pass, the days are warmer
Relief from winter's crush
Safety from nightly muggers
In wayside underbrush

Of late his gait's more springy
Shed coat and cape of fear
Worn knitted cap and sneakers
Replaced by lighter gear

What brutal forces spewed him
To homelessness and want
What tortures and past heartbreaks
His every footstep taunt

I watch this man in passing
As I go through my day
And wonder if my own life is
A pleasanter ashtray

For I may rest on feathers
And sup from cups and plates
but has my life more meaning
Than this man's narrow gate

That's when I start recalling
That I once went astray
Resorting to pick garbage
that others threw away

I pray he may find comfort
In this more tropic clime
As I found warmth and freedom
From that sad scavenge time

Each day he scans the sidewalk
Sure as a loser's bet
Intent on finding, smoking
Discarded cigarettes.