Morning Walk in the Neighborhood
From a half-block away
I noticed a young woman sitting on a cement stoop
in front of a house converted into apartments.
Beside her, two suitcases,
and a large black trash bag
likely full of belongings.
She was moving. Or traveling.
Waiting for a ride.
Her right elbow rested on her right knee,
right jaw rested on her hand,
her head turned away.
Everything about her body language
came down to one word for me:
As I got closer I heard a male voice.
Talk radio, I guessed. It had
the accusatory tone telling of someone
being in the wrong.
Then I saw that the disembodied voice
was a man sitting in the darkened stairwell,
behind her, reciting a list
of all her faults, as he saw them.
She was leaving.
~ Cheryl Unruh