The Homeless Crisis (swear word!)

[Persadia]

Sage, shaman, wise man, wizard, 
the man walks down the centuries
burdened by layers of cloth, layers of memory, 
layers of grime and shit and earth,
all billowing [about] him   
like the people around him, 
billowing out to avoid his stench,
his touch, his gaze. And what stories
are there behind his outstretched hand
and his downcast eyes and his plea 
for the quarters in your pocket? 
He keeps his stories. Keeps them hidden,
stowed away in the same place 
that God hides his secrets, his loose socks, 
his blueprints and his grand designs, 
which are perhaps not so complicated
as we would like to think.

Hi Hannah,
I like the depth of this thought-provoking poem.  The first line did have me expecting more of a rhyming, sing-song poem, but when I got to L2, it was clear it wasn't.
I felt that 'billowing about' in L5 fits better with the image of being laden under the grime of the ages.
I agree with the other suggestions to change the last line to something like "as one would think".

Very well-written, interesting poem.  Thank you for sharing your writing with us.
Hope you enjoy a warm Thanksgiving.