1982 Yearbook
Source URL
Title
1982 Yearbook
Description
The Tramp
He laid his satchel in the walkway
o
o
s
e cord was mechanically tightened to keep precious memories
from
s
P
i
l
ling out ... effort drained the lungs of sacred breaths —
the C O L D was intense.
Only Door could hold him back from the warmth of
INSIDE Door opened.
The tramp stumbled in. He s-e-a-r-c-h-e-d from one wall to another -
-- absorbing the people through squirrelly Eyes.
L
A
Y
E
R
S of shirts concealed rips and tears and holes and lost buttons and
dirt and bones and dried blood . ..
Boss was at the counter. He knew. Tramp knew. No words were not
needed. Only frowns and gestures. Tramp never talked.
Boss walked back to the kitchen; brought out a broom.
Both walked out into the cold warmed by a strange kinship.
Tramp swept the sidewalk in the cold, occasionally turning to look at
People eating their meals — Hunger stalked his tired eyes. People
kept oh eating.
The work came faster . .. faster . . . FAster .. . FASter . .. FASTEr
. .. FASTER then was done. Tramp came in. Sweat ran down
his cheek or was it a tear???
He sat on a stool and Boss brought him a special.
A silent PRAYER was born to his lips and then he ate.
All the time I sat. I was engrossed in the man-tramp.
"Tramp, where do you go? Do you like your
life?"
"Is it hard?"
"Do you migrate as the birds?"
"I must know Tramp! Please, do tell me!!"
But his Eyes remained on the plate. I — mind on him.
I thought my inner queries useless, useless, useless ... I
got up, went through the yellow swinging door back to
the kitchen then out again s-e-a-r-c~h~i-n-g
for a cause to be earning green paper. After all, I was
employed — EMPLOYED — I have a job — / was
Wanderer: forever
looking for things to do.
But did I deserve the title. I was met with the man —
TRAMP — he was being led — he did not know where
— went anyway — free to wander within the confines of
a L..... O.... N .... G Leash.
But this was not the FREEDOM I sought. I pulled a green
$5 from my pocket
and laid it by Tramp's plate. He kept on.
.eating
I went home to my Family.
Deanna Curtis
He laid his satchel in the walkway
o
o
s
e cord was mechanically tightened to keep precious memories
from
s
P
i
l
ling out ... effort drained the lungs of sacred breaths —
the C O L D was intense.
Only Door could hold him back from the warmth of
INSIDE Door opened.
The tramp stumbled in. He s-e-a-r-c-h-e-d from one wall to another -
-- absorbing the people through squirrelly Eyes.
L
A
Y
E
R
S of shirts concealed rips and tears and holes and lost buttons and
dirt and bones and dried blood . ..
Boss was at the counter. He knew. Tramp knew. No words were not
needed. Only frowns and gestures. Tramp never talked.
Boss walked back to the kitchen; brought out a broom.
Both walked out into the cold warmed by a strange kinship.
Tramp swept the sidewalk in the cold, occasionally turning to look at
People eating their meals — Hunger stalked his tired eyes. People
kept oh eating.
The work came faster . .. faster . . . FAster .. . FASter . .. FASTEr
. .. FASTER then was done. Tramp came in. Sweat ran down
his cheek or was it a tear???
He sat on a stool and Boss brought him a special.
A silent PRAYER was born to his lips and then he ate.
All the time I sat. I was engrossed in the man-tramp.
"Tramp, where do you go? Do you like your
life?"
"Is it hard?"
"Do you migrate as the birds?"
"I must know Tramp! Please, do tell me!!"
But his Eyes remained on the plate. I — mind on him.
I thought my inner queries useless, useless, useless ... I
got up, went through the yellow swinging door back to
the kitchen then out again s-e-a-r-c~h~i-n-g
for a cause to be earning green paper. After all, I was
employed — EMPLOYED — I have a job — / was
Wanderer: forever
looking for things to do.
But did I deserve the title. I was met with the man —
TRAMP — he was being led — he did not know where
— went anyway — free to wander within the confines of
a L..... O.... N .... G Leash.
But this was not the FREEDOM I sought. I pulled a green
$5 from my pocket
and laid it by Tramp's plate. He kept on.
.eating
I went home to my Family.
Deanna Curtis
Rights
St. Ambrose University, 518 W. Locust St., Davenport, IA 52803
Identifier
http://cdm16810.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/p16810coll2/id/7091