Moment on a marble step

Sitting in a gateway my mind draws images of John, the homeless vet
Who stood quietly waiting for aid with a cardboard sign
explaining in detail his plight.
Chaotic numbness drowned the words
living on the thrown away luggage of unwant,
invisible underneath the heaving of a norm stuttering to not be.
I withdrew from my comfort to be comforted.
And for this I am left abandoned to my own remorse.
For John, I imagine, still a cardboard sign and
no more an inkling of my selfish aid’s soulful thorn.
Alas, I am less comforted now than when silence
finally stretched out to nothingness
my mind drifted, distracted by the presence of the city.

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