Identity – A Dash of Sunny

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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.