The tapping of a blind man’s stick
Helpless
In a single swift accident
There at the corner table
Friends whisper
Forgotten newspapers
Strewn across dirty tables
Dragging his feet
Tattered threads of well worn jeans
Make him feel safe
Comfortable.
As the cold, chill of stone
Kisses his cheeks
His unforgiving heart
Dances to a beat
And compassion resumes her watchfulness
Her sweet embrace
In failing light
And all that is heard
Is the singing of a bird.
—–
Written for Poetry Jam
Life From A Park Bench 
You have painted such a vivid scene here, Alan.
Thank goodness for compassion in every situation. I do hope that there is a change to his unforgiving heart.
We have all seen this kind of people and have not known what to do. Compassion is indeed the answer.
smiles…i am glad that compassion can reign…and i dont pity the blind…i have known some that are ever so talented because they did not have the sense of sight…
This is very poignant, Alan.
Very poignant Alan but also something so lovely in the singing of the bird. Hope you are all settled in your new place.
I really like this. Especially the last five lines.
this is so beautiful and reassuring….
This ends on such a haunting note, it’s melancholy, it’s sad,the compassion makes it sweet,
Happy you stopped by my blog
Much love…
Alan, There is so much here to read in between the lines. Glad there is comfort in those tattered worn jeans..all that is heard is the singing of a bird..perhaps, to the tune of some healing in the heart.
The mood you have created here is bitter sweet. The unforgiving cold person with the lovely bird song. Interesting.
This is a beautiful poem, Alan. Beautiful.
Beautifully written, Alan, and I like the tangent you took witht eh prompt here.