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8 Word Contest 9 Widows Mites
The banker didn’t see me,
but I saw.
The bag behind the bush contained
everything.
Clothes. Food. Memories.
Everything that was left of an indigent life.
Forced to part with all their worldly possessions
for a moment,
perhaps to pee, perhaps to eat, perhaps to beg for widow’s mites,
someone had hidden the bag under the bush
like a broken wren,
delicate, consecrated with the hope it might fly again,
if it survives all the things that crawl in the dust.
The banker must have thought it convenient,
the way that life was stuffed in a 40 gallon bag
ready to be pitched.
How easily he threw it away.
A chore he enjoyed
for once.
He had no sudden awakening
to save him from his egregious sin.
No angel tried to mediate his cruel delerium.
The wind just played with his tie
as he returned to work, obtuse.
Contest sponsor John Hamilton, Eight Word Challenge 9
9/6/2019
Copyright ©
Jack Webster
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