Silhouette
H. W. Bryce
Prpl mini Dec 29,22 – Feb 2, 23
Standing slouched, a silhouette of dejection,
Head bowed, unmoving, for hours,
Her sack of meager belonging dangling at her feet.
The door is locked, the window’s dark,
No one comes. How sad she looks, how stark.
Night after night she comes, she knocks on the door,
She checks the darkened window. No one comes.
She picks up her bag each time and trudges,
Methodically, robotically, dejectedly
Into the darkening night, nowhere to go.
Next week, same day, though she doesn’t know
What day it is, she’s there, sad little girl,
A silhouette on the doorstep, same dejected
Silhouette slump. But this time, police
respond. They gain entry.
A grizzled old man growls, Go away. I don’t
Need you. I don’t want you here. I don’t
Need no help.
He tries to rise like a grizzly bear raging
On his hind feet. But he is bedridden,
As helpless as is wee silhouette.
Silhouette sings softly There there
My little one, time to dry your tears,
Mommy’s here, love is everywhere,
And a bright tomorrow nears.
Three weeks later, no longer just a silhouette,
The young lady helps the grizzled
Old man into the apartment in his wheelchair,
And she proves herself a natural caregiver.
So, orphaned girl and her granddad
Live happily on.
.– —
I like happy endings. We don’t always get them,
But I can always write one.
I wrote this one for that homeless girl
Across the lane because I can’t stand
The idea of being homeless.
I believe that in every homeless
Person, there is a secret good.
(If the self righteous ones turned their energies to housing for the poor, the disadvantaged, the addicted, with actual prospects of gainful .emplyment and self respect, we would go a long way to actual democracy and the spoken belief that we are all equal. Silhouette haunts me, a shadow in the night.)
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
