Lotte Kramer
Two Men
Two men sit on the pavement slabs,
Bottles of alcohol beside them
As they hoarsely rasp their stories
To each other, drinking, laughing.
They’re unaware, it seems,
Of their sad raggedness.
Living rough by choice or need,
A globe of fractures their protection.
I dare not stare, meeting their eyes
Would show concern they do not want,
Provoke hostility perhaps
And boomerang across the street.
The sun is kind to them today.
At other times they weather here
Like rotten tree-trunks crumbling
Into the next century.
Page(s) 102
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