Written by: HOLLY MOORE

cardboard sign in hand 
she stands on the exit ramp
she is seeking out your help
eye contact not made
relax, you can continue
your sight found, pay her the coins
her words are scribbled
food, family, will work for
in the pouring rain she stands
traffic keeps moving
she remains there constantly
waiting for a helping hand

she must persevere
the day’s end is coming near
exhaustion is draining her
the last car pulls near
he walks where she is standing
and the view is crystal clear

she sees her father
he takes the cardboard from her
a teardrop falls, no more signs.

"Any poem you posted during the month of November" Contest

©Holly P. Moore
   November 2012