OUT OF REACH

 

OUT OF REACH

Penniless mortals bent with a cardboard sign

Words scrawled in need of food, shelter, work, money

Their life belongings stuffed into a pillow case beside them

Though afternoon heat is deadly, jackets on

Quite a few are women

Peeks of desperation

Fear for their existence

 

Do they willingly desert their families?

Or are they tossed out on filthy steps

Forever out of reach?

 

They move like nomads, to dwell out of the elements

And scrounge on busy street corners

 

My blood rushes when I encounter

All the rudiments of life dash before my reddened eyes

We are instilled to support those in need

And if we neglect

Our guilt spits out fire

Our offering, little as it may be, means the world

 

My dark memories of those who devour garbage

Sheds light on the essence of Beggary

while most of us thirst for naught

 

 

 

Author's Note

The painting is mine.....A beggar woman in Oaxaca

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I must admit that before I give to people like those described here, I usually have a feeling of hesitation, wondering if I'm being played. On brutally hot days like those we have been seeing, though, I usually do give something. After all, it could be me.

[Betty Hermelee]

Thanks John for a fine review!
Best, B.

[W. Barrett Munn]

It seems obvious this is something that touches you deeply. I think that sense of aching for others is what makes us poets and not reporters.
W

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you so much for your fine comment!
Best, B