Anything will help

Up ahead I turn left, and there he would stand
On the esplanade with cardboard sign in hand
And most every time when the light was red
I'd get some money for his sign had said,
"Anything at all will help.".

With his cane in hand and grasping his sign,
He'd come to the window and just in time,
And speak his thanks for the bit I had shared,
For the light had changed and no feelings were bared,
Least of all anything that might help.

I go by that light about 3 times a week,
So my eyes scan over to take a peek.
I reach for my wallet for there he stands,
his cane and his sign grasped in his hands,
Looking to any for anything helps.

Sometimes we chatted and he talked of his life.
No kids and no work and he had no wife .
He  cared for his mother at age eighty four,
In exchange for a room, a roof, and a door,
So anything would help.

The last times I drove by there including today,
He hasn't been standing at his appointed stay.
And my mind goes to wondering if he is alright,
Has he found another corner a more lucrative site,
Because anything does help.

The corner stands empty, none take his place.
It's like most corners, cars, lights and space.
There's an empty spot now that he had once filled.
Strangely enough, it was I that felt chilled.
For anything he was to me really does help.