Jerome Part 2 by Joanne Okano

There are kind students at S.F.U., too,
But these students were U.B.C. students.
They would hear Jerome whistle
In the stillness of the early morning
Tapping with his chalks on the sidewalk,
Like an English milkman whistling and
Clinking his bottles as he left them on the doorsteps
As he went on his rounds.  Jerome went for walks
And people thought him strange because
They attended the gym for their exercise,
Not for a walk, but he wanted to  be
Like the Spanish in summer and get his exercise
Strolling around town, seeing the sights
And the people who were everywhere,
In all their sizes, shapes and colours.
When he drew with the chalks
On the sidewalk, all his dreams
Washed away with the rain.
He passed a miserable night
On the street in a puddle
And then next morning woke up
To the new sun.

More Tomorrow