He let out a sigh
and settled back on his overturned bucket,
as relaxed and satisfied
as if he were reclining in an easy chair
and putting up his feet.
"Who?" I asked, the first time I heard him say this.
"Those poor folks
who have so much
they don't know what to do with it," he said,
gesturing expansively around the small room.
Here was all he required in life, almost within arm's reach:
food, warmth, tobacco, good company.
What need had he of anything more?
-- T. Louise Freeman-Toole, writing about her friend Dave, an old-timer from Eagle, Alaska
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