Indifference, by HR at



written by: HR



The last bottle of Sweet Tokay
was gone hours ago
the morning was cold
this day would be no different
than uncounted others

It was too early to start panhandling
Union Gospel Mission was open for breakfast
Listening to prayers
a small price to pay
for oatmeal and hot coffee

pushing his cardboard-box-lean-to
to the side, got up
ran his fingers through his hair
brushed off his clothes
looked for a smoke

there weren’t any mirrors
under the railroad yard
hiding his duffle bag began walking up the bank
when he got to the top
he could see the Bridge.

memory took over
he saw his parents’ house
beyond the bridge
mom at the stove
cooking breakfast,
scrambled eggs, bacon, toast

dad behind the morning paper
smoke curling up
over the sports
occasionally a hand would reach out
for coffee or orange juice

next to the newspaper
he saw an empty place
his place, a memento mori
shaking off images turned
walked up the street towards the mission



Retired university professor quietly tending my garden and a herd of feral cats.
My poetry has been published in Voces de la Luna, The San Antonio Express-News, and two annual anthologies Quirk, and Borderless.

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