Who needs our help, yet remain invisible to us as we go about our day?
A sign reads
“Homeless, anything will help”
He is unshaven,
He holds the sign with trembling hands
A swindler craving his next drink
Perhaps, we think
Walking by, eyes averted, trying to make invisible to our conscience.
Now, as dusk envelopes the heart of the city,
“Homeless, anything will help” dissipates into the shroud of darkness.
A thin and worn blanket, rescued from a dumpster,
Shields him from the chill, only just.
He makes the unyielding concrete sidewalk his pillow
for yet another night.
As the warmth of family, feast, and friendship
and safeguards us;
there is no one to succor the hungry angel
indiscernible on the sidewalk outside our door.
© David James July, 2011