A silver shopping cart
sits in the middle
of an empty
parking lot
They must have missed it
during the big clean-up
Someone’s every
single earthly
belonging lay
still inside
There was no someone.
I imagine it will
be gone tomorrow
Another attempt to
solve a problem
by covering it up
But the question
remains the same
Where did the people go?
Third poem in an unintended trio. Read the others here:
He sits cross-legged
in the middle of the sidewalk
A tan coat, dirty and worn,
the final layer of protection
over all his belongings
all of his belongings
Hands in pockets
Hood over head
Shoulders hunched
Hidden in plain sight
Foolishness claims he
chose this lifestyle
That throwing away
His belongings will
magically clean
up the streets
Instead, this demolition
paves a dangerous path
toward ignoring our
responsibility to love,
no matter what
A dangerous path
whitewashed as a
much-improved scene,
until close observation
reveals the truth
Someone’s son helplessly
sits in the middle of the sidewalk
Hands in pockets
Hood over head
Shoulders hunched
Hidden in plain sight
Despite the upbeat music playing in my car
The drive to work was eerily quiet –
A pale brown deer stood alone
in the corner of the field I pass daily-
I barely caught a glimpse
of her head turning as I drove past
Happy and sad at the same time
A combination of feelings I understand
I don’t understand the deafening
cries to clean up the streets
simultaneously seeking to silence
the cries of hurting hearts
I don’t understand tearing a man
from the only home he knows
destroying his tent and what few
belongings he owns
So much prideful noise, such a lack
of compassion and understanding-
The streets are eerily clean, but
our hearts must answer
the frightening question
hanging stagnant in the air-
Where did the people go?
I pass by them
Almost every day
Structures, homes
Once filled with life
And all of its joy and sorrow
Now abandoned
Void of purpose
I pass by them
Almost every day
People, living souls
Once filled with life
And all of its laughter and tears
Now standing alone
Their gazes hollow
Purpose forgotten –
What if the latter filled the former?
Would it be a step toward living again?
Maybe a small step
Requiring help from passersby like me-
Surely an answer
Lies somewhere between
The tangible and the sacred
“Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”
Proverbs 31:9
On our way
To a coffee shop
Little girl
Laughing
Running
Down the sidewalk
Her little dog
Running alongside
Dad and brother
Close behind
Their destination
An interactive
Statue standing
On the corner
An airplane
With a propellor
Inviting them to spin
Pick us up, Daddy!
Each had their turn
That was so much fun!
They kept walking
I noticed dad’s shirt
It was torn and tattered
They were smiling
I wonder what will be
Their next destination
Driving past
A group of people
Who have no home-
Only make-shift
Shelters made
From cardboard
And blankets
All their belongings
Carefully placed
In large trash bags
Or worn out
Duffle bags
A few smiled
Most looked tired
A kind of tired
I do not know
One crawled
Helplessly
Along the sidewalk-
What are their stories?
I can only guess
And guessing
Is not sufficient-
Who will share their narratives?
I wrote these two poems during our summer trip to Colorado. Our overnight stop was in a typical city, like many other cities in this country. Good restaurants and coffee shops, local charm. Also, like in other cities, many individuals are homeless.
I do not pretend to understand or have answers, but I could not look away. Nor keep from sharing.
Your sweet smile
Gives no hint
Of the hurt
In your heart
They say children are resilient
That may
Be true
But a heart
Can only hold
So much pain-
When loss and
Instability
Frame each day
The future
Will not go
Untouched-
Not to say
There is no hope
Only that there are
No easy answers
Except for the ability
To always return
Your sweet smile
Each time I learn about another student facing traumatic circumstances, my heart grows heavy. Here they are, at school, trying to function. And quite often with a smile.
I am also reminded to stop and listen. Be patient and not too quick to judge behaviors. Seek out helpful information. Find ways to encourage.
Not that I am always successful. Honestly, my patience level today was low. But tomorrow is a new day. Another chance to observe, listen and love.
Round and sweet
Neatly framed
With cropped
Gray hair
As I passed by
The corner
Breakfast table
Where she sat
With her son
Or grandson
Our eyes met
She returned
My smile
Frail and quiet
Head tufted
With remnants
Of white hair
As I passed by
The corner
Where he sat
In a cardboard box
Turned bed
Surrounded by
Carefully placed
Blankets and pillows
Our eyes did not meet
I wish they had
That we had
Shared a smile
I dared not stare
Piano Girl 