Doug Blair Poet Ballad

Relocation

Saw a man at a snowy bus stop

Tall and lean

Black as black can be

Probably in his Sunday best

This Monday morning.

My guess Sudanese.

Here on compassionate grounds

Home country ripped apart

Tribal and religious strife.

What might he have seen Lord?

What atrocities and robbery?

What loved ones abandoned?

With no other apparent choice?

Does he have English

Can he handle this

Awful Waterloo cold

This awful Western smugness

To the new and misunderstood?

Help him Father

If it is a search

In faltering words

For a job

For some needed training

For a place to bed down.

In Jesus’ name.

And I drive by

These careful words and images

My only coins

In the stranger’s cup.

Until perhaps next time…

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