Where Do They Go

WHERE DO THEY GO? Warm summer day Sunday morning family outing To church to give thanks for God's goodness That old lady again sitting at the church entrance All day she collects pennies from parishioners And maybe a sandwich from a picnic left over Tossed in a trash can with flies buzzing around I toss her my sixty five cents small change from my back pocket. I guess she’s there all day, but at day’s end where does she go? Maybe a shared old mattress in a wrecked basement up for demolition Or a shelter for the night run by the Salvation Army Could be just in the grassy verge of a roadside parking area? After all it is summer and the nights are not cold really. Anyhow, it gets dark and she just disappears Thank God - out of sight out of mind In the darkness she can’t be seen any more Makes no impact on my suburban mentality Doesn’t disturb my late night tv with Letterman And my nightcap of Johnny Walker before the hot milk and bed. We chat before sleep my wife and I about the day And forget the old lady at the church entrance. She has no Letterman or Walker No chat with a close one before sleep A sleep perhaps disturbed by drug addicts stumbling over her in the dark Or rousted by the cops for trespass, or frightened by stray dogs in a pack. I can sleep easy, I did my bit with the sixty five cents in my back pocket. Good night. When I was small my mum used to ask where do the flies go in wintertime? Just to puzzle and amuse me Of course she didn’t explain that they don’t actually go anywhere But the cold simply finishes off all those dirty nuisances And makes the air clean and pleasant After the summer plagued by those unwanted useless creatures. .................................................................................