Sorry
I stand next to my car
filling the tank with gas
watching a man and a woman
both over fifty
push their dead car
Up to the pump.
The woman approaches me.
“I need money for gas.
My husband has cancer.
I’m trying to get him
To the veteran’s hospital.
He will be dead by Christmas.”
In the face of this wall of sorrow
all I can do is fumble a couple of bucks
Out of my wallet and mumble I’m sorry.
Sorry indeed,
Helpless, and useless,
And sorry indeed.
On Consideration
Later over tea and toast
I marvel at the perfection of it all
The beautiful woman
In need of my help.
The heart breaking story.
The reference to Christmas
Reminding me of my Christian duty
And my relative comfort.
And last but not least
The broken car
Pushed into the lot
Doors flopping open helplessly.
My girl friend remarks
“Well if they were grifters
At least they put on a good show.
that’s probably worth two bucks.”
Last Word
A Christmas Card arrives
In the mail.
It reads
Season Greetings
from Jessica and Steve.
Steve died of cancer a few weeks ago.
Merry Christmas!
Jessica
A contest entry
- anything by Virgoan.
1000 points, ended November 24, 30 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - So You Think You Can Write by skyviewexpress.
600 points, ended November 11, 67 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Comments
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The poem is actually nice. I wish I don't have rules stating 50 words or less.
I'll be back.
Thanks and regards,
Hensley

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The odd syncronicities in all this are pretty believable. Good that it ends on a cheery note, too.


