A Home

Everybody has one … or so you would think.
When I moved from my mother’s … lease ink still not dry.
I saw a guy.
He had no home … no home at all.
I couldn’t believe it … handsome … tall.
No home … no place that he was wanted.
His eyes looked so very haunted.
A turtle has a shell, a bird has a nest.
This guy had his belongings … held close to his chest.
The bundle he held in his strong bronzed arms.
Held all he owned … except his charms.
Nobody took him in … even though he had a nice grin.
Outside, still he stood just looking.
His image stayed with me a long time.
I imagined myself without a dime.
One day he was no longer standing there.
He had found a home … must have been prayer.