Her children sleep in warm beds
with no fear of winter
and no worry of waking to hunger.
Tonight the neighbor has promised to look after them.
Mother is dancing
at a club by the interstate
where the truckers stop for the show.
And its cold out
its so very cold.
Tonight she hopes
she’ll make the rent
and keep the house
where the children sleep in warm beds with full bellies.
The agencies are broke
and the food bank closed
(too much demand.)
she lost her job at the bank
and this was the only time she cried,
pleading for her children
and their need for a home and a meal
and that warm bed at night.
“Im sorry,” they said.
And she went like a wounded soldier with
no time to bleed
no time to plead her case to ears that don’t hear, anyway
or hearts cold and confined to ‘me’.
She’s dancing tonight
at that club by the interstate
stripping away her pride,
Praying for God’s forgiveness,
and His mercy.
three little children
at home tonight
in their warm beds with no fear of winter
no worry of hunger
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