homelessness / humanity / Poetry

In the Season of Thankfulness

They called him Old Aaron

he used to sit in

the Arby’s parking lot

in summer

out there on the table

sun beating down

somtimes he would flash

a toothless grin

he sat on that bench

heat exploding

sun beating down

where did his memories go?

I often wondered if his stories

stayed with him

or was his mind

blank now

from all those years

of being caught

in that life

going downward

on a bitter slope

heat and chatter cold

trapped in a world

he will never leave

where do you go

when you have nothing?

over the years

when fear lurks

under a bridge

under a cardboard shelter

the silk-suited business people

can’t look

don’t want to see

a glimpse of themselves

in his blackened face

in his toothless smile

in his bitter struggle

to survive…

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17 thoughts on “In the Season of Thankfulness

  1. Lana, your words were so sincere and caring, your thoughts very meaningful to November. Thanksgiving coming should help those of us who “have” to think about those who don’t.
    I may have mentioned I have gotten to know a few of our local homeless people. I tried to write “character studies” on them. They are in posts from awhile ago.
    Practicing and imagining their paths in life and how they ended up where they are. I often say to people who may be feeling or sounding “superior,”
    “There but for the Grace of God go I.” We are possibly 3 to 5 bad choices accidents or bad luck episodes from where we are now to unfortunate circumstances.

    • Thank you a Robin. You are so right about those 2 or 3 things that keep many of us from the streets ourselves. Our town is not that large so I also see many of the same people. I saw a neat article from San Francisco where volunteers made little portable houses from recycled material that were very attractive and were an excellent shelter for the homeless. I wish more could be done to help these people.

  2. L.T. A masterpiece … It brought tears to my eyes. All I could think of was, “That could have been me.” Blessings are amazing, and “he” may have been blessed with what he wanted to do. We have to believe that or we sob uncontrollably.

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