I Wondered Who the Beggar Was

Empty pockets sticking out like a tongue, I smiled a vague smile hard to comprehend, And hoped my helplessness he'd understand, The early sun mild like a child still young. He smiled at my plight, gesturing at me, I too what all I then had— a vague smile, Misery appreciating misery! Knew, it was not rehearsed, gag nor guile, And tried to put me to ease: sure it’s fine, Just good enough if one wishes to give, Moved, I held his hand with the helpless mine, His gesture touched me, was no small reprieve. Strange, oft when we give, puny little give, Without giving, so much do we receive! ____________________________________________ And for long after this incident I wondered who truly generous was; who the beggar was between two of us. ______________________________________________________ Sonnets | 08.01.18 |