I’m taking a breather from
the emails
the documents
the deadlines
the treadmill of files
the Escher-like never ending work mountain.
I’m taking a breather from
the headache
that sits like a heavy, black dog
inside my head.
I’m taking a breather – dammit.
I’m listening to music in the sunlight outside,
pushing obligations to one side,
just for a few moments.
I close my eyes, and breathe…
And then, there he is –
“Excuse me, Miss, my name’s Marcus”
I look into his eyes,
see the worry lines creasing his forehead,
the hesitant, apologetic half-smile
hovering around his mouth.
“I’m scared. I’ve nowhere to stay tonight.
I’m scared.”
I’m taking a breather…
He cannot.
We chat for a bit, I tell him my name in return,
I give him some money (that I really won’t miss)
and wish him well
and mean it.
I did nothing really,
except…
give him some time
give him my attention
give him my name
give him recognition
give him humanity.
He gave me peace.
It’s time for the weekly prompt from A Dash of Sunny where we are invited to write about something that is important to us. This mish-mash of a poem isn’t a work of fiction, Marcus really did enter into my world for a few minutes during Thursday last week.
I didn’t do anything earth-shattering. We just spoke for a while, like people do. The trouble is, too often homeless people are ignored by the rest of us. I can’t imagine the amount of bravery it takes to ask a stranger for help. The cynical part of me does sometimes question what any money I might give will be spent on, but really, who am I to judge, if it helps that person get through another day with no place to call home?
He gave me more than he imagined, in any case. He took me far away from the concerns of work, and on that particular day, it was a blessing. Thank you, Marcus.