Friday, August 1, 2014

Sketches

He was an old man
and he asked for change.
I didn't have any
(though I had bills,
and canned food in my pack)
but I honestly told him
I had no change,
bade him good-day,
and rode on.

A middle-aged Indian,
brown as a nut,
lean as a whip,
holding a please-help-and
God-bless placard
didn't make eye contact with me.
I must have looked too white
or stingy, I guess.
I rolled down the window
and gave him a dollar;
"Hey bud," I said,
"use it for God's glory."
It was the best I could say,
though not the best I could do.
"I'm always with God," he said.
The light changed,
I drove away.

What is this world
but the set of a drama
where you do not know the script?
It is a vivid stage,
and the other players
sometimes actually need you
(we are not acting here)
and what if you
forget your lines?

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