He was a thimble of a man
He came into our bar daily
We lived in Hegins, Pennsylvania
He spoke but wasn’t understood
Pennsylvania Dutch, like a foreign language
He was suspect
Odd in every flavor
A smarmy fellow
Shaved head
Hunter’s cap
White T-shirt
They called him Little Head
He sat at the bar unaccompanied
Then played cards with my grandmother, Euchre
They relished this past time
I watched but had no interest
He drank shots as she delt
They smoked in tandem
I never liked him
I found nothing redeeming in him
We took him home one night
His house fell in on itself
He knew little, he had little
He found companionship with my grandmother
She gave him something no one else had, a chance
-
Author:
Katie B. (
Offline) - Published: April 10th, 2026 05:51
- Category: Short story
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Friendship, Teddy.15, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments4
I love this poem in its message and also the story telling itself. Very nice Katie
Thank you so much Soren! Have a lovely Friday!
You are most welcome Katie and you as well
Nicely written, your poem serves to illuminate the often-overlooked lives of individuals who are marginalized, emphasizing the importance of compassion and understanding in human relationships.
Thank you so much!
This gave me goosebumps beautifully done your last lines really something to hold on to, we all need a chance and you have written this beautifully in wisdom and imagery 🌹
Thank you so much!!
Katie, this hits with a grounded honesty that doesn’t try to dress anything up…you let the memory sit as it is, uncomfortable and real. There’s no rush to soften the edges, and that’s what gives it weight. It feels lived, not shaped. Well done! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you so very much!!
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