Freeway Exit
By Ann Garrett
“Homeless and dying of Aids”
the stained cardboard read;
propped up against a
tattered
shriveled
body
on the crowded freeway exit.
“please help” it begged
and
“God Bless.”
Like a nursery rhyme
gone awry,
the chant echoed
over and
over
in my mind.
“Homeless and dying…”
“Dying of Aids…”
So, this time I reached
into my wallet
to give
this man
or
woman
(I didn’t know which)
a small token for
a hamburger
cup of coffee
whatever.
Slowing my car
I swerved to the curb,
holding out
a few crumpled dollars.
Trembling hands clutched the bills
A leathery finger brushed against mine,
The person’s head raised cautiously.
And I was met with,
a grateful glance
a slight smile
a “Thank you.”
As horns honked behind me, and
the driver next to me swore,
I merged again into the traffic
haunted…
humbled.