Sophie
Number seven comes to a stop
She lifts the bag three times
Left foot, right foot descend the stairs
A stretch to the curb makes four
Her designer luggage overflows
An old coat folded neatly on top
Calloused black hand clutching the handles
Keeps it from touching the concrete walk
Left foot, right foot shuffle along
PF Flyers imprinted by her stride
A pair she’s worn five years now
Fresh newspaper covers the holes
A day off from the big house
Sends her to lesser quarters
Dusting, vacuuming, upstairs and down
Her children need something to eat
Bag is packed by four PM
The old coat covers her supplies
Twenty dollars stuffed in her bra
Left foot right foot shuffles along
Number seven comes to a stop
She lifts the bag three times
Left foot, right foot climbs the stairs
A stretch to the aisle makes four
©Wayne Bien 2010
Namaste,
Christine
Donna