Even As

 

You see them

On the street

Begging for money

In torn clothes limping

Or their wheelchair

Rolls crooked

Their eyes glossy

Or they're clear but gaze

Far beyond the scene

Their hair is matted

Or their head

Is shaved unevenly

And they need money

For a roof in the rain

Or some food

For drugs or alcohol

Or hot coffee

Sweetened thick

With packets of sugar

This is not defeat

It is a moment preceded

By some other calamity

We can scarcely imagine

Even as they shuffle

Or push along

The highway offramp

In the sunlight on

The painted yellow lines