CONTRASTING lifestyles prompt this human cameo from R S Thomas, the Welsh cleric poet.

It comes from his Collected Poems, 1945-1990 (Phoenix Press, £4.99).

TRAMP

A knock at the door

And he stands there,

A tramp with his can

Asking for tea,

Strong for a poor man

On his way - where?

He looks at his feet,

I look at the sky;

Over us the planes build

The shifting rafters

Of that new world

We have sworn by.

I sleep in my bed,

He sleeps in the old,

Dead leaves of a ditch.

My dreams are haunted;

Are his dreams rich?

If I wake early,

He wakes cold.