3/30 A Childhood with Better Lighting

Rewriting Memories

Never mind the bombs or images of war

Or the blind kid on the bus singing trying to make a living

How did we neglect the hungry and the destitute and the old?

But time does not forget

It just plays in a private theater

Like a matinee waiting for me to come in and watch

Amidst all that chaos and madness

There was a beautiful, picturesque sense to it all

In the open road

Or plazas people went about their way

Beyond color and smell

More than taste and touch

Like music

Some of those brighter recollections overshadow the sad

But I never forgot about that boy

Clothes torn

Hanging on singing with a gifted voice until the next bus stop

Collecting whatever he could

My grandmother giving me a few coins to place in his hand

A life lesson in understanding – how good we had it

Maybe he grew up to be man

And found a way to make a living

And found someone to love him

And had children of his own

But in rewriting this memory

I wish I could have given more