Desolate Days
These were desolate days
of sitting in this windswept park;
pedestrians in suits and skirts
swept past, some casting
hostile glances my way,
most not even seeing
this lump of flesh
perched on a bench.
For company, I’d watch the pigeons
swirl overhead in tight formation
then swoop to earth
for crumbs cast by my fingers;
they loved me for a moment.
On one desolate day,
the children came,
a colorful flock
in sneakers, flip-flops,
shorts and t-shirts;
they came to cast
more than bread upon the earth.
A group of five
came to me, bringing paper sacks
heavy with sandwiches and fruit.
I smiled in gratitude
that they brought
answers to my hungry prayers
but most of all,
their cheerful smiles
and listening ears
lifted me
out of my swamp of despair.
This was a desolate day
until the children came
and made me feel
full, whole and worthy
just as they were.
I hope they remember me with love
as I remember them.
- David Harris
