Tuesday, October 27, 2015

I am dry in my house, this rainy night
but cannot settle to sleep. He haunts me.
Can you spare a dollar?  he asked
and I could, I did.  That was all I did,
placed  crisp dollar in shaking hand,
got back into warm car, laughed with
grandson, ate a Rollo, wound my yarn. 
And the man sat in the rain behind Savers
with his crutches and his cast and the
sense of death surrounding him.  I gave

him a dollar, left him there.  He haunts me.


  1. There are so many faces haunting us every day. Here in Sweden they come from eastern Europe and sits waiting for the morsels we might spare.. I wonder how much we could give them their pride back and not just the money... Maybe that's what haunt us.

    1. Thank you for sharing your insights into this issue of being haunted by the needing faces and lives -The idea of helping them rebuild pride and workable lives is such a challenge, maybe or maybe not possible.

  2. At least you gave him something, but not all that he needed. And at least you were haunted...did not look past him...did not ignore or dehumanize or blame. At least you cared!

  3. Thank you. And you are right. We can only do what we can do.