Pavement Trapeze with Special Brew

Villanelle


In the winter where do all the tramps go?

In their dark suits of mildewed plaid

We shy away from them, we would not follow

Gentlemen of the road, they like to bellow

Their battered top hats are tattered and frayed

In the winter where do all the tramps go?

A whimsical advertisement for Special Brew

Their pavement trapeze makes us afraid

We shy away from them, we would not follow

We would not smoke their hand-me-down tobacco

Of minor catastrophes their lives are made

In the winter where do all the tramps go?

If we offered our help, they might say no –

We live in fear of the tramp’s tirade

We shy away from them, we would not follow

When we are in the warm and the first snow

On the rooftops and velvet fields is laid

In the winter, where do all the tramps go?

We shy away from them, we would not follow