Reprieve

FullSizeRenderwet

And still they wait—

157 or more,

gathered before

the soup kitchen door.

Waiting—

for relief

from the chill,

from the brunt of hunger,

from lost promise.

Waiting—

before the shadow of light

that must define

hope

peters out.

Waiting—

to escape

from the wet,

from the dirt and the dark.

Tonight,

tomorrow,

again,

again

and again.

*   *   *

“Soaked” photo and “Reprieve poem by Mary O’Connor © 2016


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