Thursday, November 16, 2006

afternoon

you stand before me
painstaking look on your face
one hand outstretched, looking to be filled
other, gripping your stomach, also looking to be filled
thin but clothed and shoed, not yet a hollowed shell, but not far off
skin tanned and wrinkled from the elements

today was not our first meeting
however, it seems we're always meeting this way
you, standing at the edge of traffic, slowly, desperately,
placing yourself in the path of others,
pleading for help and demanding someone take notice.

yes, it seems we're always meeting this way,
me on my way to or from meeting someone,
usually over food or a drink,
you, wondering if either shall find you this day.
it is time for us to stop meeting this way.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Poetry Schmoetry. I don't get this.

~sarah said...

i for one liked it!