Freeway Exit

“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.