Not a beggar nor a wino

“Excuse me miss, are you local?”  I turn with subtlety to retort. . .   “you could say that”.  I kept it short . . . I knew what was next  I sit on the bench; you know to get myself comfy  For this jack-a-nory.  I already know the story. But I give him his glory. Continue reading “Not a beggar nor a wino”

Mans Lament . . .

So very humbling to see the sight, A man asks God to ease his plight. On his knees, his hands in prayerI watch and lament a mans despair. His words were silent.I knew them well,we’re not so indifferent, nor infidel. Absorbed by the silence and solitudeA remedy to aid tormented moods. A new morn came.Continue reading “Mans Lament . . .”