vagabond

Ensconced
In cocoons of sleep
Lie the sated ones
Their rumbling snores
Echo down the street
As the lone one roams
The wind is his home
It welcomes him
Caresses him
Holds him closer
Than the fitful sleep
Of dreams

As the sated ones stir
From restless reverie
The lone one finally rests
His soul rising
With the greying dawn
On the streets below
Empty rags lie still
Where once the wind had blown