i spent the day
with the gray blanket crowd,
each of us
slouching toward rich meals
provided by strangers
grateful for their prosperous lives.
it was a chilly thursday
sitting in the eighteenth street park
communing with
squirrels & sparrows.
sips from the daily bottle
provided the necessary
holiday cheer.
a pink-cheeked lady
in a faded fur coat
brings leftovers
from her family feast.
bright tinkling words
from her lips
proclaim
it was the love of jesus
that brought her to my perch.
i smilingly accept her meal
and take another swallow
of lively darkness.
well-fed flesh
ripples behind her
as she trundles toward the next
hungry soul.
in church basements all over this city,
the gray blanket crowd
dines among
bustle & warmth
on this one day.
colorful tablecloths
provide a veneer
of civilization,
a hint of the normal.
meanwhile, the uninformed line up
for the daily battered
white church van;
as a silent witness, i wonder
if the soup is as thin
as it was on wednesday.
it doesn’t matter, not to me;
i’ve found my solitary celebrationthe
woman in fur
didn’t linger for conversation
but the squirrels, the birds
were there for me
along with the bottle of cheer
and as i took its final sip,
my eyes closed
on the chilly
autumn thursday.
