She sits behind her paper cup
by the sidewalk in the sun
and wonders with wide wandering eyes
at young missus with the bluest shoes
and the way the silver buckle
of her glossy red purse
dances even in the shade
like dreams of home she almost dreamt.
Young missus peers into her purse
and pulls out a silver coin or two
to drop into the starving cup.
With barely half a sideways glance
with eyes that look but never see,
young missus smiled and skipped on by
with sweet illusions of empathy…
T. E. Pyrus