Crumbs - A poem by May Williams Ward

I watched the lad across the aisle, my spread
Newspaper shielding me.
He did not buy
His lunch, but crumbed a sandwich on the sly
Behind his copy of THE NEWS instead,
Pretending interest in what he read.
He had a lean cheek but a zestful eye,
Few coins, but pride,--four valid reasons why
He relished so his surreptitious bread.

The train ride ended, it was fate that we
Should meet and secretly begin to break
The bread of love and hungrily to eat . . .
Can those who gorge on whole loaves openly
Be happier? The long fasts we must take
Because of poverty, make crumbs more sweet,

Crumbs.