Pizza Night

According to Jean Paul Sartre “The poor don’t know that their function in life is to exercise our generosity”.  Perhaps that is true but the lady in the next poem knew nothing of Sartre or of his words yet she succeeded in exercising my generosity.

Pizza Night

Friday night is pizza night and this night it’s my turn to buy
Two quatros in hand as I reach the car a woman catches my eye
Her sandals are all but worn through and the babe on her back makes no cry
She’s tired but worse she is broken and instinct alone makes her try
To sell one more cheap little tray cloth so they might eat rather than die
I have no need of her offering but I reach for my purse with a sigh
And buy not one but two bits of lace, thinking “But for God’s grace there go I”
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