Unforgiving, Follow-up

Even as I wrote the blog about the little man in the coffee shop, I was aware that many years ago I’d written a poem along the same lines, and was embarrassed, on looking it up and re-reading it, by the fact that I expressed exactly the same disappointment with myself both times, and that despite all the years between, I hadn’t changed.

I hope I’m not risking turning you away with another poem, but I think it complements the earlier blog, and points out our…well, at least my…tendency toward self-delusion when it comes to a desire to change:

She Might Have Been a Statue

She might have been a statue

as she stood there with her dog.

She gave no note as sunbeams

swept away the morning fog.

In her hand, a battered cup;

on her ragged dress a sign

which underscored the obvious:

it simply said “I’m blind.”

I watched the people passing by

as if she wasn’t there;

a sea of stylish outfits

and salon-sculpted hair.

She stood alone, impassive,

lost in some private dream;

an unseen, unseeing island

in a roiling, rushing stream.

And though the street was noisy,

I felt that I could tell

the sound of one coin in her cup

as clearly as a bell.

At last she signaled to her dog,

and they slowly moved away.

It seemed we’d both been on that street

much longer than a day.

I was overcome with anger:

I could not fathom why

no one had stopped to help her—

but neither, then, had I.

I don’t think I’m uncaring;

I hope I’m not unkind.

But one need not be sightless

to be completely blind.

And something deep inside me

was glad she could not see

how totally ashamed I was:

not of her, of me.

I took it as a lesson

from which I learned one fact:

it’s not enough to empathize,

one also has to act.

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This blog is from Dorien's ebook of blogs, Short Circuits, available from UntreedReads.com and Amazon.com; it's also available as an audio book from Amazon/Audible.com: