The Peddler / by M. Dionne Ward

The deliverer and not some shiftless common vagrant
upon a nightstand he spread sense shaped like dollar bills
gnarled fingertips laughing across wood grain, hoping
to find more texture in the reality it might buy
and his visions individually wrapped fortune cookies
breaking off to expose an axiom crafted lovely
not some nomad adventurer but a seeker of life hating
his plight but more bent to admonish a lesser path
the better craft, the debtor past, the peddler, last.