The Time

While walking on East 88th Street,
Heading to the train,
I was absorbed in reverie
So I felt mild disdain

When someone asked me for the time.
I glanced around the street
And realized that the voice
Originated at my feet.

A homeless guy was still abed,
All bundled in a blanket
Upon a mattress, soiled and stained;
A website could not rank it.

He looked at me and I at him;
He scratched around his crotch.
10:30, I replied
After I’d glanced down at my watch.

While he remained quite prone
I just continued on my way.
I wondered if 10:30 was
The time to start his day.