On Fertile Ground
woman on her scooter scoops chili
from her insulated bag
onto plastic plates
deftly juggling movement while the motor idles
wounded humanity, street people with shock eyes
that smash against the heat,
form a line
their off beat grins that recall the fertility
of hope
men accepting plates of food, paper thin pride
soreness in bony bodies that have no words for
self pity
stitched to her bike, she dispenses hot food for the
mercurial
in city streets, a sparse ground with patches
of charity
fertile soil for those tossed like bags in a storm
burdened by a brutal calm
devoid of the green weeds of ego
Poem composed: August 18/21
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