"We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike." ~Maya Angelou

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Poem: The Invisible Ones

We walk, hurrying a little,
our minds already present
at our destination; we walk,
alone yet so close to others.
   All eyes down,
      There is a pace to keep.

What gifts reside in the unfortunate,
invisible ones, screened from our
sight by what we expect to see?
What sorrows undiminished?
       All eyes down,
          There are things to do.
On we walk, wearing unawareness
like a cloak against connection.
Past the broken man with matted
hair and missing teeth.
       All eyes down,
          He is not my problem.

He speaks your name, in a voice
you know; a familiar half smile,
a reaching hand from thirty years gone.
History and alarm jerk you aside.
       All eyes down,
          "For this is my body".

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