PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Walking past I don't judge so well,

A lonely female, standing for a no-show friend,

But I see more clearly,

The 'Big Issue' your arms are gripping

As I'm rebounding along,

For my failure to recognise, I am compulsed to heed

And stride toward,

this erstwhile Jesus

Awaiting in the vision's edge.

- Did you need anything to eat?

- No.

- No, off course not.- No hand is free to hold,

And I see lined eyes

knowing brighter foreign skies,

But the palm empty pushes forth,

backed by devine grace, needs proper filling, 

Not worthless coinage that weighs the crate

And commit to my noted change.

You thank me with God on your lips, over and over,

For a kindness I feel I don't deserve or can own,

Your tiny face harboured under layers of clothes,

Our fingers, our times entwine,

Even though I prepared for what was to be,

I am shocked.

And, yes, your hands are cold.