Street Rat Magic – A Poem

She is sittingGirl-with-Hands-out2

on the street

corner. I’m a

little surprised to

see her back.

“Irene?”

I say softly.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d left the streets.”

She looks up

at me, her eyes

wide and her

face tired and

pale. She gives

me a half

smile and shrugs.

“Times are tough, you know? Times are tough.”

I want to

bend down and

give her a

hug, some sort

of comfort that

would make the

pain she carries

on her face,

in her soul,

slip away, but

I can’t. Instead

I can only

give her some

form of kindness.

I take a

dollar out of

my pocket and

drop it in

her hat. She

smiles at me.

“Thanks. You were always good to me.”

“It’s nothing.”

I tell her.

“No, when you were a street rat, you always looked out for me. Always took care of others. I could never do that.”

I smile, warmed

by her words.

As I walk

away, I reflect

at how fortunate

I am. I was

able to get

off the streets,

out of the

shelters, away from

the food banks.

Through the kindness

of others, I

found my way

back home. I

was lucky. However,

I know that

others aren’t so

lucky, even ones

I used to

know like family.

She may not

have been family

of the blood,

but was instead

family of the

heart. She’s a

street rat to

some but to

me, she will

always be a

sister. I didn’t

look at what

I gave her

as just money.

In some way,

I hoped what

I was giving

her was a

bit of magic

so that she

could find her

own happily ever

after.

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About Jamieson Wolf

Jamieson an award winning, Number One Best Selling Author. He writes in many different genre's. Learn more at www.jamiesonwolf.com
This entry was posted in Poems, Talking with the Eath and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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