“I wish I understood the beauty
in leaves falling. To whom
are we beautiful
as we go?”
From “Three In Transition”
Will I end up like him, oblivious to time and place
Furiously scratching at a small square of paper?
Better him than the woman squatting between parked cars.
Or like that tiny man, who having misplaced everything else
Decided his shoes were dispensable, too.
It’s hard to be part of another’s fall.
Fall is the only word for it.
Even from a distance it’s unnerving. Isn’t it?
And aren’t we ashamed of our response to it?
How we wish they’d go away, bad dreams and all.
Still, it’s hard to see so many falling.
Hard to imagine how anyone can be so alone
Here in a world that sings of little else but love.
Published in MARGIE: The American Journal of Poetry
Volume Five/ 2006.