It's FRIDAY WRITES at Poets & Storytellers, and I'm in a somber mood. Snug and warm after the seven inches of snow painted my world, I think of those sleeping under overpasses and in alleys, wrapped in tattered blankets to ward off the chill. Submitted to Poets & Stoytellers, February 4, 2022
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THE WRITER
In the wee small hours and silence of night, when insomniacs clutch their remotes, trolling the airways for diversion, it’s the witching hour; and darkness, black and velvet, envelops the alley. Beneath a tattered blanket, the homeless man huddles in a doorway. Soon the trash trucks will clang their way down the alley, collecting clotted and fetid debris from the dumpsters, and yet another dismal day will begin. The man stirs, and draws from beneath the blanket a stubby pencil and battered journal to record yet another day of desperation. Little remained of the man he once was but the desire to write.
I so want to read what he wrote!
ReplyDeleteOne way to maintain his decency and at the same time clear a cluttered mind from other problems. Love your choice of subject, Bev!
ReplyDeleteHank
Very moving, Bev. You give me pause for thought, remarking on the homeless in very cold temperatures – something I seldom think about, here in the sub-tropics. A terrible fate indeed!
ReplyDeleteBev, you touched on an issue our city, small at 100,000 folks, struggles with. My heart aches for the men, women and children who are houseless ~~ heaven help them. Not enough people genuinely care, city government is useless here. So many need mental health and addiction help. Your message is beautifully conceived and composed.
ReplyDeleteThank you for remembering the homeless. It is a terrible plight and a refection of our inhumanity .
ReplyDeleteHe remembers write in his desperation, this is deeply moving Bev
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my blog
Much love...
His journal must make for fascinating reading... it's terrible that so much talent is lost because the business of living takes too much of a toll. Thank you for highlighting the plight of so many - a necessary, poignant write.
ReplyDeleteI am thankful for my warm home and multitude of throw blankets. I wish everyone had access to shelter and warmth.
ReplyDeleteThis piece describes one of the terrible things about cities, New York City in particular. So many people without homes... so many people with so little to live for. I am so glad your subject has paper and ink and the will to write.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me think of my dad. Whenever he saw a homeless man at the exit ramp he'd say, "Give him a five."
ReplyDeleteSad country we have for all the prosperity and obsession with the stock market and the jobs report and the GDP, on and on.