The Monday After Starbucks Closed

There is a man
His skin is like chocolate
His eyes are clouded, foamy
Like the muddled milk of my latte
Whenever I go for coffee - I see him
Standing, calmly directing traffic
Believing, faithful to
His purpose to arise from his homeless slumber
On those days, I understand
Not always, but sometimes
I remember the why of it all
And I speak, I touch his arm, his shoulder
And I pay him for his service
Our eyes meet
We both know
It is never enough

dg

12/20

Sent from my iPad
http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

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