A NICKEL FOR JAMES
We used to see him
on his old bicycle
... always alone
with the things
he carried home
from a war,
long ago.
Just James
himself!
A long beard
and tired eyes.
He never said much
to anyone.
Cops
found him
dead,
within a cold
wet night
of Winter.
No bicycle!
No books!
His dogtags around his neck.
A cold nickel
... in his hand.