Biking through the snow’s tears
betraying this place’s years,
weeping in the sidewalk cracks,
but age ain’t always wisdom,
lest we forget.
The man by the doorway,
he suffers and cries,
while the wealthy pass by him
with stone in their eyes;
they’ve learned to forget.
His name’s George;
he’s not from Germany.
He needs medication;
he’s suffering from gout, see,
and a swollen sense of regret.
He shows me pics of his kids,
a son and daughter like mine.
I share my water, amidst
stares from the trolley line;
he doesn’t want to forget.
The rips in his blankets,
the scars when he speaks,
he sleeps in the garage,
he’s been there for weeks;
a sorrow he won’t forget.
His wife and his children,
a country away,
he can’t seem to get there,
but he can’t bear to stay,
fearful they might forget.
He has a kind face,
it matches his son’s.
He’s been panhandling change,
no papers, but he’s not on the run.
There’s something else, but he forgets.
I sit with him an hour
‘cause that’s how long it takes,
to get his medication,
pockets can’t hide shakes,
and a night he’d like to forget.
I leave him with walnuts,
chocolates, and greens,
he leaves me the fullest
smile I’ve ever seen;
kindness we both won’t forget.
As I bike the sidewalk,
aware I’m on the wrong side,
it’s the way I view things;
I’m just along for this ride.
I wrote this so you won’t forget.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Your line about age and wisdom not always going hand in hand is very apt. You don’t look old enough to be writing such powerful stuff! I’m not being patronising, I am really impressed with your stuff. Well done!
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That’s so kind. I softened the last line in hopes it makes the poem’s message clearer. I had another poem I was going to blog today, and then this happened to me, so I wrote this poem instead. I’m probably older than you think, as it’s been hard being 29 these many years. 😉
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You are very welcome. I really enjoyed it and the message was loud and clear!🙂
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I was also talking about this country older, but perhaps not wiser in everything….shh, don’t tell anyone 😉
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okay, I won’t!
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Oh, this is marvelously drawn, K. So many people just walk by so many of these people, even though (as you imply) these people are all of us. Awesome work.
I thought you might like this (in the same vein): https://eggsovertokyo.blogspot.com/2017/11/shelter.html
Also: (A Friendly proof-read)..I thin k in S3 your line should be “but he can’t BEAR to stay”
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Thank you kindly, Ron. Great edit find, too. I’ll be sure to check out the post your tagged.
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Your poem is outstanding, Ron. Thank you for sharing it with me. The smoke as corpse, religion and salvation for sale and this veteran, perhaps, at the depth of depression. Amazing.
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Very well brought to its ending here. Not making it neat, but making it real and personal. Engaging is the word I like using. Poems are relationship. You paint a picture that way. Thanks. (will have to return for seconds!)
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