I am shamed.
I have walked by you,
traded shallow pleasantries, ordered my latté,
gone about my daily nothings, oblivious to your darkness,
you who are lost.
I have cared, but not cared
because you were other.
I have not seen the fire closing in,
the overwhelming helplessness of your predicament,
you the theoretical heretical stranger.
But lost has become intimate.
Lost now has a face and a heart.
And I am lost in the pain and desperation of helpless please-Gods.
But you . . .you other,
you have been lost all along, and I didn’t even notice.
And it shames me.
1-20-12
How are you doing? You have a wonderful gift for poetry. We had a whirlwind week recently when our daughter came for a week to be with me for a Birthday treat. Was it ever! Loved every bit of her visit.
ReplyDeleteIt has been a whirlwind here too--particularly this week. Waiting for the front porch, cool breeze with ice tea and no threats of nuclear holocaust or family trauma and drama! :-) Dramatic, huh!
ReplyDeleteOooh you are a good 'shoe' friend for sure. And the hat ....while vintage is one I bought and wear to the tea room, I too am wary of 'bugs'. What's OCD mean?
ReplyDeleteObsessive compulsive disorder. Not funny I guess to those who really have it. We have a cute little tea room here and folks come in and wear the tea room's hats. They decorate the walls on racks when not worn, but I go . . no thank you! ;-P
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