Friday, February 26, 2016

Response to "Don't Ask Me"

Nearly three weeks ago things changed in mine and my family's life forever. It's hard to see how things will go on from here. I will never again in this life hear my mothers voice or her laugh or debate issues of the day or talk about this one or that one as we both catch up on family affairs. I won't enjoy a roast dinner followed by her famous apple pie or sit in the garden soaking in the sun as we put the world to rights.
 But I will always remember her and keep her alive with stories. But I'm not up for that yet so here is me just rambling as usual.

In Response to Don't ask me:

Breathing fog into icy air
Scurrying along in the dark evening,
Eager to get to ...
Theatres, Shows, or a meeting with
Keeping the cold at bay with
Furs, scarves, hats and gloves
They hurry past...
Past the railings
Where you sit on
Your cardboard mat
In the air
The tempting aroma of chips
Mixed with burgers and onions,
( I've always loved the smell of frying onions).
Hunched over,
Hands knarled, red
Said, "a man of the road".
They don't look.
Are you invisible ?
No, they don't want to see..
Don't want to "get involved"
Make excuses:
"There's no need for anyone to be
Hungry in this country"
Your blanket, unable to protect you
Yet, you pull it up around you.
A small family group notice,
Look at you,
Are moved.
They bring coffee and chips.
And they speak to you,
Listen to you,
Acknowledge you,
They go on their way,
You smile...

Day 17: 17th April,17th poem

Coming home from Canterbury last night I saw a young girl in a doorway. Her clothes worn, her hair disheveled she was smoking and had a small piece  of cloth beside her on which were a few coins. I wanted to crouch down beside her and talk to her but was afraid to. I thought I might take her to have a coffee and find out her story,but I walked on . However, I couldn't get her out of my mind. So this poem came in just a few minutes this morning:

Don't Ask Me

Don't ask me why I sit
In this doorway,
Cold from this floor
Seeping into young bones
Aged by misuse.
Looking, but not looking
At you,
Just catching your eye
 Long enough,
Hoping you'll throw a coin
Onto my need.
Don't ask me why I sit
But wanting only my stuff,
Dirty and ragged,
Don't judge me

Don't judge me...

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