The Hobo

Written for:  The Sunday Muse #256

Photo by Volkan Kacar
They found his spoon
and cup.  Knowing he hopped
freight trains all his life,
it was strange to find his
closest possessions
sitting in an alley.  He
never traveled without
them.  They felt it was
an omen.  He no longer
needed his possessions.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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8 Responses to The Hobo

  1. Wow… that’s… dark, Sara 😦

    I mean, super well written… but it definitely leaves me feeling sad all around – about the circumstances of his life and death…



  2. A poignant piece indeed.


  3. Carrie V. H. says:

    This is deep and thought provoking Sara! I love where the image took you! Brilliant! (So sorry for my late appearance.)


  4. Helen says:

    A chilling Sunday Muse … beautifully penned, Sara.


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