The Anniversary
She can still remember when she bought it.
She could afford to buy anything she wanted, back then.
It is past midnight when she makes her way under the bridge.
Her worn sweater will keep her warm, one more night.
She gathers her handful of battered items together as she spreads wide her cardboard box.
Carefully, she places the picture of her daughter near where she will lay her face.
She tucks the bottle into her waistband.
On more than one night, someone searching for her bottle had roused her.
Tonight she just wants the sleep her only friend, the bottle, could bring her.
If sleep can come deeply enough maybe she can forget.
This anniversary is harder than anniversaries in the past.
This anniversary reminds her of the day her daughter had gone.
The police knock ruthlessly on her door. The sympathy they offer does nothing to ease the shock and pain she felt--still feels--will always feel.
"Goodnight, my beauty. I will be with you again soon."
The temperature quickly dropping; spiraling, spiraling, a deadly low.
Her sweater will not keep her.
She will not need her bottle.
She will not need her picture.
She will not need her sweater.
Published by Phyllis Cunningham
I am a wife, mother, grandmother and lover of life in S.W. Missouri. I love to write family humor and consider my writing as "Bombeckish". I hope to someday compile my memoirs into an Erma Bombeck style book. View profile
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5 Comments
Post a CommentOh, this is so poignant... it made me cry. Reads like a story, but it packs all the power of poetry. Great job!
So sad, but well written. You have evoked the reality.
So sad. I know this first-hand, as I spent years helping homeless families get and maintain permanent housing. Lots of sad stories, and people from all walks of life. Beautifully-written poem.
How sad but so well written. It drew me right into the scenario. When I was a young social worker I naively thought all human problems could be resolved. There will, however, ALWAYS be countless "forgotten" ones living under bridges, huddling around a burning trash barrel in the winter to get a little warmth and have not even one change of clothes. Thanks for the much needed reminder...makes me count my many blessings.
How beautiful and sad. I had goose bumps when I read that. I thank you for all the homeless out there who can not get on their computerin a warm house, after a good night's sleep, and a huge breakfast to thank you themselves.