Santa Cruz (Empathy)

I watched a mother play with her baby today.
Under a boardwalk, hiding from sunshine,
she laid as she watched him dig holes with toy shovels and plastic buckets.
Her smile was bigger than his… less amazement, more pride.
I could feel the comfort and the courage that the little boy received from her presence…and I hugged them as they left the beach.

I watched a 13-year-old man die today.
lying on his back, in a Santa Cruz gutter,
on the corner of Bixby and San Lorenzo.
He was moaning like a little boy half his age.
unable to form the words that he wanted to say.
His mother was holding a hoodie to the bullet holes in his chest.
I could feel the air bubbles as they rose through the blood in his lungs,
the desperation in his moans.
I watched his eyes close, and turned away as the life left his body,
unable to hold back the lunch in my stomach or the tears in my eyes.

I watched an angel sing her song today.
In a blues club. In a town I’m not familiar with.
Her voice was full of comfort, full of courage…
she reminded me to breathe.
Helped me to escape for just that little while.
Left me feeling whole again… let me self reflect a bit.
I gave her a hug… and bought a CD that I’ll just keep replaying.

— leest1 —


About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR ·
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s