He holds out his can with
very little if any hope of alms
the battered sprig of mistletoe
having nil effect on the passing
populace that shared
not a smile not even
a sneer with the person
that real person that sat with
his spare hand
smoothing his dog
Person
22 Monday Dec 2025
Posted in art, poem, Poetry, prose, Short Stories, short story, Thoughts
The Write Idea 
I would have given him money and asked to pet his dog. I would probably have bought him a sandwich and a bag of dog biscuits too.
Me too, I was in a car at the time and couldn’t stop, everybody has an excuse I suppose.
You have a kind heart. Have a beautiful Christmas and a Peaceful New Year 🎄😊
The same to you and yours, Bill. 🙏🏻🎄❤️
Oh, that is poignant, Bill. How many times do we pass him by? How many times do I pass him by?
And now some convince themselves that he/she is responsible for societies’ ills. Thank you for your compassion LuAnne.