Pockets Full of Nothing
The buildings, millions of miles tall
tops
touching
the clouds
plastic bags, dance in the wind, tumbleweeds
dreary
sunken air, graying the skies
the only glimpses of color
wads of gum,
spat
stuck
solidified
on the cracked, stained pavement

People stalk about
heads down
hoods up
soiled water, runs in filthy streams, into putrid sewage drains
moldy air fills my small lungs

My little fingers clasp around my mother’s wool coat tail
my little feet logded in snug, cozy boots cut through the blackened slush.
Puffs of warm air, escaping people’s mouths, are visible in the crisp air
as a reminder
we are alive
we are human

A woman sat, on her knees, in the grimy slush
head bowed
in shame
her children accompanying her
a boy and a girl
neither topping six years

they wear no shoes and no coats
only long, ragged t-shirts
a torn and creased sign in the woman’s bony, vein covered hands reads
“Homeless, Godbless.”

No excuses, no explanations
only blessings on others.
my mittened hand tugs down on my mommy’s pocket
I rudely stare, only an ignorant child
silently shaking reminding my mother of the woman on the ground,
My mom stopped and bent down to meet my height
“Would you like to give something to the woman?” she asks me
I shake my head no, rapidly
She was scary, disgusting
dirt covering her face
nothing like me.
The woman is an alien
to my young mind

My mother walks to the woman and pulls out her wallet
I watch in shell-shocked amazement as my mother empties a total of $40
into the woman’s hands.

The woman looks up to my mother’s face
a tear running down her cheek.
she grants my mother a silent thank you
worth
a million words
as the woman bends her head back down in shame and my mother leads me away from her and her children
I can’t help but wonder
why the woman bows her head in shame
when it’s not her who should be shameful.