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Mom, who’s that man on the steps?
Just somebody passing through.
Why is he here?
Because he was hungry.
What is he eating?
A fried egg sandwich.
And coffee?
Yes, and coffee.
Why is he eating out there?
He said he liked it outdoors.
How did he know where we lived?
I guess they tell each other.
Where is he going?
Back to the train, I think.
Is he ever coming back?
Probably not.
Why did he call you “Ma’am”?
I think he was just being polite.
This poem first appeared in Verse Wisconsin.
Used here with the author’s permission.
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Peggy Trojan, after a career of teaching English, retired to the north woods of Wisconsin. There, she and her husband, David, with the help of family, built a house next to a trout stream. Peggy stays busy writing and making jam from the raspberry patch she carefully and lovingly tends. Peggy is a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, and is the author of two full-length poetry collections and six chapbooks. Learn more about her here.
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Dorcas:
What a lesson for a child.
Posted 12/07/2013 10:08 AM
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twinkscat:
Wow! This is a real piece of history. Loved it. You might check out the novel, Housekeeping, my favorite book.
Posted 12/05/2013 07:01 PM
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paradea:
Wonderful poem! I love dialogue!
Posted 12/05/2013 02:58 PM
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ed werstein:
Excellent work, Peggy!
Posted 12/05/2013 11:13 AM
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Judith Heron:
This poem is in itself a beautiful ripe berry.
The way you have written it, like a duet, Peggy...guitar and dulcimer...such simple strains...so much to say.
It graces my day.
Posted 12/05/2013 11:06 AM
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Wilda Morris:
This brings back memories of stories I heard in childhood - hobos who came to my grandparents' door, and to the parsonage at the First Baptist Church. They knew they would get a meal.
Posted 12/05/2013 09:54 AM
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Katrina:
Beautifully, this reminds me of Christina M. Norcross's poem, ONE STORY, prompted by the quotations from
Charlie Kaufman: "There are nearly thirteen million people in the world. None of those people is an extra. They’re all the leads of their own stories." — from the film Synecdoche, New York
Posted 12/05/2013 09:44 AM
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KevinArnold:
Very nice poem. So concise--a trim poem taking advantage of form to eliminate quotation marks, attribution, and all that stuff fiction writers have to deal with.
Posted 12/05/2013 08:53 AM
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TheSilverOne:
I knew a hobo..left home at the age of 12 during the depression years and rode the rails for food and work. This reminded me of his life. Thank You!
Posted 12/05/2013 08:29 AM
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gretchenfriel:
Peggy, this is awesome, I can hear Woody Guthrie singing. Imagine how happy the hobo was for a fried egg sandwich!
Posted 12/05/2013 06:06 AM
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