HOW QUICKLY ONE DOES FORGET...SUMMER, WINTER, SPRING OR FALL, 'REMEMBER' KINDNESS AND HANDS THAT DIDN'T TAKE, BUT GAVE. PASS-IT-ON AND IF ONE HAS NOTHING TO GIVE...IT'S ALRIGHT, BUT DON'T TAKE... NICKLES OR DIMES. THANKS FOR THE SHARE. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Since I'm from there, I can't imagine being homeless in the north. It's bad enough here when people are told to seek shelter when it drops below freezing occasionally. Most don't like the confines and inconvenience of shelters for various reasons and will only stay there to get warm rather than a place to stay.
Dramatic to the nth, Jane . . . I very seldom pass a Salvation Army in front of Walmart (or elsewhere) without leaving something for them. I know those people. They helped me out in the bad old days of my life, I've n'er forgotten it, I never will.
Some are homeless due to misfortune or just plain bad luck, while some are homeless by choice. I wish it was easy to tell who truly needs help from those who just use the system. I have a friend who works at a shelter, and it's amazing how many are kicked out because they won't follow the rules.
Missing the point is when they turn on the vacuum cleaners that suck the life and wealth out of society, and then ask "who are all these beggars, and why won't they go home or get a job?" Now they're nickeling and diming us all to death.
Whenever I hear about storm warning of the extreme cold the first thing that would enter my mind is how the homeless people out in the street are going to survive. Here in Canada, the temperature can go down to as low as minus 50 Celcius with the windchill. Not a good place to be out in the street, let alone sleep there.
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
This collection of poetry addresses the nature of time, reflections on the natural world, the difficulty of loss,
contemporary social issues and gratitude for life.
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Regis.
budd
Ron
A timely poem.
Sandie