Garbage Night
First come the pickups
Ford 150s who scan the piles for treasures
Often with wife and dog in tow
Then the middle aged men on bicycles
Equipped with trailors and baskets
As sophisticated as they can manage as scrappers
Then, the mothers come
Their feet are their vehicle
Hunch backed and tired
They search in earnest for the leftovers
Anything, anything of value
15 cents here, 5 cents there
Carrying the load of the world
On their already burdened shoulders
My mother used to hate the scrappers
She resented them going through 'her' garbage
Me, I wait till the trucks and bikes have passed
I wait for the woman with the world on her shoulders
I give her whatever small token I have
We share a smile, maybe a laugh
As she gets ready for the long walk home
Both shoulders burdened with suffering
I feel sick inside as I return to facebook
To hear that the residents of Grenfell Towers are being rejected by the priveleged
I vow to do more
And I wonder....
How much can ever be enough....
