it’s complicated

He’s right outside my window,
right now, right here.
In the rain, looking for dry spot, under the eaves,
or so I presume.

Wrestling with a blanket, tucking it into his torn jeans
It’s awkward, trying to work and watching him
just trying to be warm.
I wish I had a tarp, or a blanket, or something
more.

I can’t see his face, but I can see
he’s wearing a
leopard skin bra.

It’s complicated.

But it’s cold and wet
and I don’t know
how to reconcile the
community growing
under the freeway with
the life I get to live,

where I ponder
creativity and travel and wine and
if I need a new sofa, or if chairs and better lighting

are good enough.

One Comment

  1. Karen

    These are your words and this is your story but your words tell my story, too. Especially since the rains, my newest and most visible neighbors are living under the freeway overpasses on our way home. It is hard to fit into the picture I hold of ‘my life.’ Do you know about Steps Forward? It’s the organization I’m supporting for its smart and whole approach to helping our region’s homeless. Even then, I see how the organization provides a buffer for me. Cognitive dissonance.

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