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| A typical ragman from long ago |
Ragman
April, and the ragman’s come around
with fingerless gloves, and a greasy leather pouch
jingling with the pennies he will pay
for other people’s junk, three cents a pound.
Grizzled, grimy, something of a grouch,
he speaks like someone come from far away.
He’ll buy old pipes and pulleys, bottles, scraps
of cloth and metal, magazines, perhaps
a little holy terror now and then
(according to our moms and dads); and so
it’s no surprise to all the neighbors, when
we hear the ragman’s tiny tin horn blow
announcing he’s come down our street again,
that Phil and Eddie opt to lie real low.
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