And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw
in two mites, which make a farthing.
And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto
them, Verily I say unto you, That this poor widow hath
cast more in, than all they which have cast into the
treasury.
For all they did cast in of their abundance; but she
of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her
living.
(Mark 12: 42-44)
Widowers have "mites" too:
especially those on the road,
and their "all that they have" can come to mean more to them
than any "even all their living" ever should.
Six weeks for breaking and entering. Well,
all right, yes, I entered some corner shop
one night in search of ciggies, let's be honest.
That done:
'My bag?' on the way out -
'Bag? We don't keep garbage, grandad.
Well, are you going?
Or do you want to stay inside another month?'
* * * * *
When all you have,
your every good and chattel,
fits in one plastic carrier-bag,
and they take that from you
and you emerge
into the morning daylight,
take on the streets you cannot face, not again,
not empty-handed,
then in your pocket you find a stub of pencil,
some paper in a bin:
and the sun comes out on a bench in a square.
Write it all down.
