On Washington
I gave a homeless man a dollar this morning.
He rolls up and down Washington Avenue in his ‘Bema, Benz, or Bentley.’
His desperate eyes hide behind his black frames.
He wears a dirty white t-shirt and his shorts end with no legs to walk on.
I loose breath as he nears my car.
I lower my eyes and try hard to look away,
but the feeling to help in me is so deep.
Do I have to give to everyone! I don’t have today! I don’t want to today!
The light is red.
And I don’t need that two dollar coffee.
So I lower my window and let in the warmth of the March morning.
I greeted his smile with my own, and put a dollar in his cracked dry hands.
This is all I have today, I said.
That’s all I need, he replied.
The light turned green,
and I watched him roll away.
By: js
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