"I've got friends in town," he said.
"I like it here, swimming in the river, hiking the mountain."
"Will you write me a poem?" I asked.
"Sure," he said. "What about?"
"Anything you'd like," I said.
"Oh, that will cost you more, $5," he said.
I nodded and he wrote me a poem about the sidewalk, the parking lot, the people, and the mountain. It was a good poem.
"Are you managing okay?" I asked.
"I make enough to pay my rent," he said.
"What are your dreams?" I asked.