Beggars
She hangs her head, tears spill down
Curious, weird, not hitting the ground
But caught by the air and flown away
It’s windy today, a little too cold
She shivers
If only it were only
The weather
The comfort I offer is also cold it seems
Shivering wet from its own tears
“You know how when you’re trying to avoid something?
Telling yourself ‘I must steer clear of that’ –
It ends up kind of making you do it”
Says the barber, scissors snapping in the air.
I walk out down Bond St.
The business end of the
Monopoly board
Trying to buy a hotel
Should have tucked my empty pockets in
They saw me coming
And were snickering
If I had a million dollars
For every one of those tears…
If I I knew how to drive
Or at least, how to steer
“Can you spare a dollar, mister?”
Sorry mate, not today
A blanket, a bottle
If I knew how to trust
If I knew how to beg
Or at least, how to busk…
March 2015 Derek Wilson
~ by Derek Wilson on March 16, 2015.
Posted in Poetry, Writing
Tags: barber, beggars, bond st, busk, busker, Monopoly, shiver, tears, Weather, Wind