The Fog Invading Their Bones

 The Fog Invading Their Bones

(“I know the Lord will get justice for the poor and will defend the needy in court.” Psalm 140:12)

Today the clouds covered the dripping hills,
the trees half naked after the leaves have fallen,
the air had the first shiver of the season in it,
and the horizon was gray.

And I am warm. I look out my front window and
see my neighbor’s dog prancing like it is
new year’s eve.
The geese veered across the sky in their familiar
flight pattern toward the south.
Wrens hide in blackberry bushes,
Swallows send their young into the air.
And I am warm, fed, clothed and
have my favorite playlist for company.

How was I to know the first rains could reach
neighbors just a mile from me,
How was I to know they had no cover,
felt the cold, left their bodies aching with
the fog invading their bones?

I thought that sad face was angry with me,
I thought that ragged clothing was just fashion,
I thought that family on the corner was only on vacation,
I thought the homeless like sleeping on concrete.
I thought they had chosen, and having chosen,
should be politely escorted to an invisible part of town.

Sometimes they talked too much and I called them needy,
sometimes they slurred their words and I knew they deserved
far less than if they spoke clearly,
sometimes they fucked and shitted and bitched and bastarded
and I insisted they exchange their language for a piece of bread.
Sometimes I feel I was bad luck to those who were angry
only
because
they wanted to be human.

I think the Spirit is drawn to the huddled families
with snow drifting through the corners in their federal housing,
I think the Spirit seeks the shacks where friends left the
many to fend for themselves,
I think the Spirit warms the unprotected and
warns the unseeing whose privilege has kept them
from the cold.