by John Dullaghan

Created on: March 03, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

May not pay, but...

Handed a book of poems the other day
to the older black woman who lived across the street
the one who'd always been nice to us
when no one else would even speak

to us whites at the end of the block, we heard
whispers and Spanish whenever we were
within earshot, would insure the proper
distance, but not her,

and the next time we saw each other

She said, "That one about Death and dying
and your friend in the ditch accident
and can't take all the death anymore...
that one I really liked, that
one made me cry...

My son died, you know
he was young, your age, just turned thirty four
and I get depressed now, I see a therapist and all that

but those were so true, I loved them...
Thank you so much
for sharing them with me."

after I thank her for the compliments
I thought...
Money, sure as hell
isn't everything.

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