IN A PRESENCE
The sepulchral box is becoming a happy
place, and they take up collections at three.
I walked past the mission, just before, and the
people were lined up already for food. One great
big cross overhead - that church's enormous
spire; two fellows trimming the grass and shrubs,
everyone else mostly just staring. Really, I wanted
to give everyone a hundred dollars each, and still let
them eat for free. It was just plain sad, all this misery.
If Jesus still wanders these parks and lanes, it sure seems
like he's unrecognizable now. Except I see him in every
face I pass : sorrow blinking, sadness cast.