A Public Sphere for Poetry, Nature, and Politics
When I gave the panhandler some spare change
he looked at me and said Thank You then he
looked at the person next to me and said
Thank You again. I was alone, at the time,
and this was thirty years ago, but ever since
that moment I’ve been waiting for the day
when I can see that other person beside me—
the person the panhandler said Thank You
to right after he thanked me. I know there
will be days ahead when I’ve taken a break
from knowing things. When things stop
coming to me and instead begin slipping away
like the sound of voices sliding through a city’s
blank spaces, or long goodbyes that never
seem to finish and never bring an end to things.
I think by then it will be good to see that person
no one else sees now. Because I’m sure that person
will have the answers to all the questions
I never get around to asking anymore. Like
where is there to go this early spring night as I
stand tilted in my winter coat against the wind?
copyight 2015 Jose Padua
— Photo: ‘Baltimore’ by Jose Padua.