Followed by pigeons
And an untamable stench
A man closes fingers around a newly found meal
His bloodshot eyes watch the streets
His white beard floats
As the cold approaches
He huddles within the confinement
Of a worn black coat
Sitting on stone steps
Covered with blankets and shirts
Two companions beg
For the occasional penny
From a passerby
And clutch at a self-made sign
Beneath bridges
The wheels of carts screech
The men and women talk
They are grateful
One puts an arm around another
One hands another
His worn black coat