At the Hospital Entrance

The chunky dark haired man
old from work and worry
how to live on next to nothing
sits by a tiny dog
caresses it
says Mi preciosa
smiles sweetly.

He sits outside the hospital.
He is losing his wife,
waiting for what he will learn
whether she has days or months to live.

This patient dog is all he will have
and while that is not enough
it is something worth having.
He will have bills
but there is nothing more they can take
the bankers and other criminals.

Maybe he will squeak by
find the city housing promised them.
And, yes, he has social security.
If he can’t take the dog he will live in the park.
For years he has seen others live that way,
wondered how they came to that.

Robert A. Davies has published in recent years largely online. He has been writing poems seriously since 1969. He has published Timber, Tracks in Oregon, Melons and Mendelssohn, and Bluff Hollow. He was co-editor of Mr. Cogito for about 20 years. He has recently appeared in Dissident Voice and Windfall He can be reached at: Read other articles by Robert A..