Ragged Coat
By Robert W. Cluney
In the first gray light of morning
He walks the city streets
He shivers in his ragged coat
As the city wakes from sleep
A man, a bottle cradled in his arm
is sleeping by a door
Ragged Coat slips the bottle away
He's made a crafty score
As the warm wine trickles down his throat
He polishes up his hard luck story
In case a soft touch should come his way