Sunday, September 12, 2010


he stopped for a moment,
kind words shared
some small amount
dropped in her hat

while she sang and played
a beat-up, cheap guitar
played poorly, sang with
tones painfully piercing

the unconscience of diners
on the patio where i sat,
having my once-serene lunch
disturbed by her mediocrity

but his words were kind,
his offering sincere, welcome ~
she went on singing
he went on his way

'hope we get some rain;
ground could sure use it'
he told me from the corner,
cardboard sign in hand

i opened my wallet,
hoping that what i had
was more than
he had given her

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