Bus Stop Poem by Cheryl A. Caron

Sitting on the bench at the bus stop
Everything he owns in a shopping cart
Wrapped in plastic bags
Layered coats; tattered and dirty
Worn out sneakers; probably not his size
Frayed gloves; holes in the fingers
Empty seats on either side
People standing around in the cold
Staring ahead; waiting for the bus
Everyone seems oblivious
I sit down beside him
Our eyes meet; he looks confused
We are the only two on the bench
He looks away, as if waiting
For a bus he has no intention to ride
I sense his discomfort; redirect my eyes
In my side vision I see him turn my way
He is not looking at me
He is studying my cup of coffee
Sympathetic, I reach into my purse for the dollars
He smiles, but his pride refuses the money
Again he turns; waiting for the bus
Everyone seems oblivious
I take my dollars to the coffee shop
Then return with a second cup of coffee
I hand it to him; he takes it and smiles
I understand him now
He does not want my pity
But he appreciates my empathy
I decide to walk instead


copyright 2008 Cheryl A. Caron