570
Now
have a blessed day, sir, she told me
even though i was forty feet away
and shutting the trunk of my car, now
filled
with groceries
sitting in her walker with the fold-down
seat, a Medi-Cal special, and
holding a sign that said something i didn’t see
because i had avoided her the second i walked
out of the grocery store, turned my cart to the left
and went a smaller, more complicated way
to my car so i wouldn’t have to make eye contact
but i felt her eyes on me as i unloaded bag after bag
into my vehicle, filled with a day full of
anxiety
stress
what-ifs
what-could-have-beens
how-did-this-happens
and my daily afternoon headache was throbbing by then
and all i wanted to do was go home
and forget about things for a while
so when i pushed the cart
to the rack, headed back to my car
and slammed the trunk
the last thing I expected was a
blessed day
least of all from a panhandler.
and it shocked me
and i didn’t know how to respond
and my headache was still there
and all i said was thank you
as i closed the door to my car
stunned and shocked
i justified myself, saying
it’s been a hard day
i’ve already given so much
i don’t have any cash
and i drove home.
now
as i sit here outside
watching the sun angle into the trees
etching across the mountain
easing into sunset
i would have said something different
like, have a blessed day, too
may god find you
may you know peace
the peace i have right now
in this moment
i could go back
but i know she’s not there
she’s blessed herself somewhere else
and i don’t know if it’s better
so now
i will think of her
pray that tonight she saw the same sunset
watched the gold shift into reds oranges purples
until it stretched into the
stillness and peace of the night
