John Irby's Blog - Posts Tagged "in-it-together"
Anything Helps
He stood alone in the center island formed
by the intersection of Kolb and 22nd Street.
Sleepy-eyed commuters glanced at his cardboard declarations:
Not Homeless.
Not Hungry Yet.
A Vet. Just Like You.
Sheets of white paper held in one hand flapped,
seagull wings on the stirred currents of whizzing cars.
The light turned, autumn leaf red, he supposed.
Cars slowed and rested.
Windows slid down. Elbows protruded.
Voices sang out.
“Any of those old-fashioned rhymes today?”
“Hey, man. Make me giggle. Need one.”
“Loved yesterday’s. Read it to my kids at the dinner table.”
“Touch my heart, Poet. It’s hurtin’ bad sore.”
"Go Seahawks!"
“Help me out. I need a good cry.”
He walked the line. Leaned down. Handed ‘em out.
Touched skin. Stretched his grin.
“Morning,” he said. “Feelin’ good today?”
“Thinkin’ ‘bout yuh,” he said.
“Hope this helps,” he said.
The light turned, golf course green he supposed.
Traffic edged away, a reluctant tide going out.
Some waved the words out the window in a
see yuh later kinda way—
while his ribs ached from the banging goin’ on inside.
by the intersection of Kolb and 22nd Street.
Sleepy-eyed commuters glanced at his cardboard declarations:
Not Homeless.
Not Hungry Yet.
A Vet. Just Like You.
Sheets of white paper held in one hand flapped,
seagull wings on the stirred currents of whizzing cars.
The light turned, autumn leaf red, he supposed.
Cars slowed and rested.
Windows slid down. Elbows protruded.
Voices sang out.
“Any of those old-fashioned rhymes today?”
“Hey, man. Make me giggle. Need one.”
“Loved yesterday’s. Read it to my kids at the dinner table.”
“Touch my heart, Poet. It’s hurtin’ bad sore.”
"Go Seahawks!"
“Help me out. I need a good cry.”
He walked the line. Leaned down. Handed ‘em out.
Touched skin. Stretched his grin.
“Morning,” he said. “Feelin’ good today?”
“Thinkin’ ‘bout yuh,” he said.
“Hope this helps,” he said.
The light turned, golf course green he supposed.
Traffic edged away, a reluctant tide going out.
Some waved the words out the window in a
see yuh later kinda way—
while his ribs ached from the banging goin’ on inside.
