Street people sing the change cups full.
They dance without care, laughing
wide and loud. They search for the weak,
catching their eyes, reeling them in;
the uninvolved walk and avoid.
The corner becomes a one ring
circus. Traffic releases thunder. Children
point. The elderly understand the caldron
of poverty. Midnight ends the show.
A plate of scrambled eggs and a warm root
beer provides half a dream and hope for
tomorrow.
Roger Singer 