Meeting in a Strange Place

I was riding the subway. He was

huddled in a coat, all green

dulled with winter,

brown bastard shoes on his feet.

Got spare change, he asked

mumbled.

I moved away dancing on sea glass,

kicked shards at him.

Go away I spat

take your dirty shopping cart,

your filth encrusted mange, anyway

this is my stop

I said secretly

thrilled by this encounter

with a beggar, me

arrayed brightly like a flag.

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply