She sets out
Mrs Robinson flows through the airways
Stars and Stripes
Flag fans adorn a white picket fence
Tall flagpole nearby
Stars and Stripes, hanging limply in the morning heat
Sheriff rolls along behind her
A couple sits on the curb, feet in the street
sharing breakfast
their cart nearby
curbside, near the unhoused homes
A cart, stuff inside
On the sidewalk, a dark lump of a shape
Is that a person?
A body?
She'll never know
Folks in shorts & hats, jogging, walking dogs, wearing earbuds to tune out the world
Others in filth, rags, carts abundant with stuffed white plastic grocery bags
Others with their cart near empty, a wooden pallet and a few small items
An elder, white-haired man carries a garden hoe as he moves down the sidewalk,
past the freeway offramp.
A younger man, wearing well-worn pants: one leg above the knee, one to the ankle
He waves a window squeegee, talking to no one seen
Yet another man, clothes ragged, outside of a liquor store, attacking sidewalk cracks with the claw end of a hammer
~~~
And the man...the man who lives in his truck, curbside to the golf course.
An incredibly tall chainlink fence separates him from them
A big tarp covers the huge amount of stuff in the bed of the truck, a giant lump
Cab of truck stuffed completely full, sometimes just enough room for him
Other days no room at all
The well worn asphalt under his truck, stuffed with more stuff
stuff
chain link
And the man, who squats on this slice of an intersection island, major freeways nearby
He and his small dog, who has a blanket to protect him from the heat & a water bowl...and their umbrella...
Most days, they are here or walking to or away from here
Man with a troubling expression of such deep sadness, my heart breaks again and again every time
Red light, cars come up fast in her rearview
She sits stopped, no place to go
Front window panes, a Scrabble-like letter in each square
A B O R T I O N
She must drive on before reading the lines below
So, she wonders: whose side are they on
Certainly, it is not here
The news is overwhelming...
(replace 'news' with heat, thoughts, concerns...everything)
May you, may I find ways to live with that
xo
Photographs by NAE ©2022
9 comments:
such powerful poetry in this thought-full journey ... Arlo Guthrie's Which Side are you On? came to mind ... how hard it is to comprehend the other side
I woke up remembering more:
Yet another man, clothes ragged, outside of a liquor store, attacking sidewalk cracks with the claw end of a hammer
~~~
And the man...the man who lives in his truck, curbside to the golf course.
An incredibly tall chainlink fence separates him from them
A big tarp covers the huge amount of stuff in the bed of the truck, a giant lump
Cab of truck stuffed completely full, sometimes just enough room for him
Other days no room at all
The well worn asphalt under his truck, stuffed with more stuff
stuff
chain link
With added photo:
And the man, who squats on this slice of an intersection island, major freeways nearby
He and his small dog, who has a blanket to protect him from the heat & a water bowl...and their umbrella...
Most days, they are here or walking to or away from here
Man with a troubling expression of such deep sadness, my heart breaks again and again every time
Yes, Guthrie. sigh.
So much...
This is Marti:
Today, I wrapped my forehead in my Trust cloth as I did the communal Trust meditation, searching for the sense of grounding,,,
Today I watched Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson become a member of the Supreme Court with joy as well as sadness for the court is no longer Supreme. Still it was an up-liifting moment for our country. The balance on the court won't change but to see her take her place, to know that she brings experience unlike any other, to see her, a woman, an African American woman, I give thanks.
Today I thought of tomorrow, the first of July and of the coming celebration and I asked myself, why and what are we celebrating?
Yes. Really too much. (Nancy)
Marti~ I listened to a clip on my lunch break. To think of her adding her insight & experience into the conversation.
There are a lot of flags around here. A lot. And yes, what exactly? (Nancy)
coming back to "sign my name" to this
Thanks for doing so Liz. Somehow I became "anonymous" on my own blog and don't have the wherewithal to figure out why and fix it. (Nancy)
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