Veterans Service Day Pies and Pets

Its an old building of spires and dirty stucco on Wednesdays filled with men some in worn and dirty clothes that have not seen a washing machine for weeks or more, others keep blue, white shirts and clean jeans they come starting at 9, a social worker nurse, and the women cooking for the day the smell of beef and cabbage, breads and broth pies and cakes, apples and oranges, brought by old veterans and widows with families and homes who run the pantry cans of fruit, vegetables, and spam bags and boxes donated worn clothes old shoes I see old friends who live with cold nights and rainy days, living under bridges, in alley ways men who have fought wars — the elderly men in Viet Nam, the young in middle eastern lands They are injured these men some need the medicine of cheap wine some heroin or Norco for the pain they have fought those wars, seen friends die, seen their rifles draw blood seen a man’s eyes loose the brightness of life there is a display of pride with each other there are no unfriended here in this place they talk and share There in that grey mist and light I bring them pet food, leashes and cans, samples easy to put into a backpack I bring them something to help their warmest unjudgmental wet nose friend, wagging tails a soft snuggle in the night I have seen them give their pet all that they can, working jobs no one else takes saving for the help to pay a kind vet I have seen them give a vaccine to their dog before their get their own pets of the homeless a reminder that with all the cruelty and harshness in the world there are people that bring warm light and kindness during the darkness of nights