Hallo; Young Lady Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

A beggar's summery smile salutes my mercy
with hands outstretched. Yesterday she was
here doing repeated acts. Greeting the workers
from downtown. The train pours them out timely.

My mercy seat is waiting and looking,
Will I give my last dollar freely,
or feel defrauded with my eyes looking,
at the same woman who got my dollar
for the same words yesterday?

Let us change seats with her. I come to
greet people for pay daily. No shame in
poverty. No smile in shame. No bluff
in hunger. But sharing the look and what
jingles in a purse pocket. Who will give
up doing what they have to do.
Me or the beggar?

Tricky places outside the Boston train
Beggars whose children are hungry,
Not looked after at begging time.
Fliers claiming "hungry with two
children"

Inside the train the saga of yore.
The drug pusher comes in with his.
The bus to New Hampshire has left him.
His dad is a dying man. He needs just
a twenty to get to him.

Flash back, this could be anyone.
Trying to lie their way to something.
This money crowd rides tired. Look
at each actor with half disdain.

The Nigerian pastor preaches loud.
Tired workers look bored and curious.
Will he get to heaven with a few,
who heard him on this Boston train?

The woman is on my mind still,
His greeting is not on my paycheck.
Nor are the taxes going to make up,
The difference between the beggar
and the worker. Both look so alike
I shake to think of it. "Hallow,
brave lady, " I say and walk home.
Taking comfort in yesterday's dollar,
for in her hands it did land. I land
on the mercy seat with my tired bum.