I
saw more homeless people today in a short span of time in my suburb than I had
seen before. I felt helpless and overwhelmed to try to help them. I failed
miserably in doing much of anything.
The
other night, I was talking to a long-time acquaintance/friend, she struck me as
more lonely than I’d ever thought before and I tried harder to connect to her,
but it wasn’t easy. Again, it seemed ineffectual.
I
watched an episode of the History Channel’s show Alone and I thought about what surviving in this world takes and
how we now deem that as “entertainment” and I felt like this is a very strange
culture we live in. And a conversation with another mother talking about how
hard it is to “change a culture”---all of this funneled through my thoughts
tonight to form a poem to remind me that things do need to change for all our
survival. I need to do more than just survive.
Lost in the Wilderness
In
among the trees
Bear
scat is everywhere
Showing
that they live there
No
person ventures here
Except
creatures that growl or howl
Cold
wet woods or on concreate
A
man holding a homemade sign
With
one word “hungry”
Looks
past those that pass
Hurried
customers reading the sign
Not
checking-in with the man
Who
holds it so tight
Night
falls deep and fast
A
woman types “like”
Clicking
right and left
Too
far away friends
Who
“get” her but
She
never sees in real time
She
is glued to this one spot
Hoping
the phone will ring
It
almost never does
She
sighs as tomorrow
She
will walk past
The
familiar spot at the store
Where
that man waits
To
be fed
She
will run in quick
To
get supplies
For
her camp out with kids
that
she teaches
And
she knows everything
About
them
But
they don’t know one thing
About
her
She
goes out another door
So
she doesn’t have to see
The
hungry man again
He
just wants a warm greeting
A
place to wash
He
wants real meeting of just one
Other
person today
She
has no time
To
really talk and he could
Keep
her too long
Though
he is an expert
On
how to avoid the bears
And
things that go bump
In
the night
She
has fright
Of
another kind
that
the kindness
Will
be taken wrong
And
somehow he will tangle up
Her
life and she’ll fall in a trap
By
saying “hello” or “what’s your name?”
An
unwritten contract will be signed
Ironclad
and she’ll not know
How
to end it
No,
she has children waiting,
Students
she has promised to teach
How
to survive
In
this vast wilderness
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