Monday, June 16, 2008

Sonnet Sunday

Sitting in the calming chill of dusk
a homeless man approaches.
Clad in ski-pants and t-shirt,
straps dangle as if undone after
his long day on the slops.
Even his nose is crimson red.
"Can I bum a cig from you?" he questions a man.
"Got a dime?" a response that echos in my brain
like the linger of an alarm clock.
I wonder....
What has the world come to when a sole
cigarette is worth a dime?
How much is it worth to this skier who has nothing?
Would he be willing to trade blood?
A rich man with cigarettes has set a price
on each stick in the pack.
This one was in the's a quarter.
This was sat in the's a dime.
Perhaps he has bargain days,
blue light specials.
For that moment, I want to smoke.
I want to turn to the man and ask to bum one.
Maybe with bare legs and my makeup painted on
I'll get a good deal......
two for one.
I'll put it in my mouth,
let it sleep in the pucker of my lips,
lean in close for a light,
take a drag and pass it to my homeless friend.
"Here take this, cause I don't smoke
and greed can kill you."

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