03 January 2013

small-minded shame



he scurried about
frantically, like an ant,
from vehicle to vehicle

in a white tattered shirt,
a sarong, and a siri-siri bag
filled with his belongings

touching the shutters
he paused, pleading,
waiting patiently

no one helped him today
in that time between
red light and green

I was angry; I told myself
he didn’t deserve help –
all limbs intact, begging!

I was angrier he burst my bubble,
spoiled the pretty pictures
in my head with his pleading

and brought me back to
the reality lying outside
my air-conditioned box

he scurried about like an ant
and, remembering him now,
I feel even smaller.

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