You Can’t See Me?

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You can’t see
That I’m as different
From a homeless person
As a homeless person can be?

Every item
Neat as a pin
At every moment
You might glance at it?

Beyond neat —
Artistically ordered,
Color coordinated,
A pleasing harmony?

Never one bit of trash nearby me
Even in the very middle
Of my bread and cheese lunch,
My hummus dinner?

Painstakingly obeying
Every ordinance
Of legality
And decency?

You don’t see me, still,
Every possible moment,
Even here on the grass,
Working to contribute to our world?

Don’t see my quietness
Contemplative gaze
Well-meaning smile?

How can you not?
How would you feel?
How do you feel?
… Do you feel?…

The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, and lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Contributions may be made at:

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Ana Daksina

About the Author: Ana Daksina

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