Tuesday Evening

A road in Virginia.

Photo courtesy of Mike Von/unsplash.com

It’s just Tuesday evening 

as spring melts into summer 

along a road called Good Hope. 

 

The Koreans’ store on the corner 

at V Street 

does brisk business in big brown 

bottles 

and small glass stems; 

merchants from half a world away 

collect crumpled green 

behind shields of Plexiglas. 

 

Four old men, brown and gnarled 

like limbs of scrawny shade trees 

sit on upturned milk crates. 

On a fifth box, 

cards are flipped 

in a game of whist; 

the men chatter, growl, laugh 

and sip from brown-bagged bottles 

as their daily contest rages on. 

 

On Sunday mornings, 

this corner blooms with color; 

men in their reverent suits of blue and 

black, 

and women plumed in rose, gold, and  

periwinkle 

pour from the stout mahogany doors  

of Corinthian Baptist Church 

and only the children 

notice the clouds 

which form pictures of sailing ships 

cruising a baby blue sea. 

 

But this is Tuesday 

and the lead gray sky 

drips with hints of rain; 

the cards on a milk crate 

are traded with dice 

and the old men chatter, laugh 

and sip from brown-bagged bottled. 

 

This could be Milwaukee, 

Oakland or Baltimore; 

the same buses and trucks  

rumble along blistered pavement 

and one old man 

wipes sweat from his face  

with an oil-stained rag 

while merchants from half a world  

away 

close their iron gates 

and speed away 

in cars and vans 

to homes in the suburbs  

a world away 

from a road called Good Hope. 


Issues |Art|Lifestyle

information about New Signature, a Washington DC tech solutions and consulting firm

Advertisement

email updates

We believe ending homelessness begins with listening to the stories of those who have experienced it.

Subscribe

RELATED CONTENT