Few still remain

Difficulty moves me to sadness. I empathize with ordinary people. They struggle. I notice. Clenched fists and imperviousness, Resistance to comments about status, Safety, and standing of health, This dangerous attitude Restricts every thoughtful view From resonating with the fellow in struggle.

And what I fear is that - Of all the gentlemen and ladies that attend supermarkets to buy groceries to feed their families, Whose grimaces stare me down - They merely represent a fraction of the total population. Assist them? I wonder. Interact and smile as they carry about monotonously? As depression swells in their eyes?

Surprise! I stand by. Unsatisfied with myself, I ponder and plunder over comings and goings. What small actions could impact this cashier? Does my “thank you” for separating the meats from the milk mean nothing at all? I continue to worry on their behalf.

Short stacks of cash, Limited dollars match with their names. In shame I expand my horizons, Calibrate my definition Over these superstitions which are self-damaging. I accept nature as beautiful, And count myself the lucky boy from Roberta, a street without trees. Few still remain, at least. Called such for a horse that once grazed overseas, A cabbie said years ago.

#people #perspective #money #shopping