Thursday, 24 April 2014

What's your name?

Because I thought it was Wednesday (and not Thursday) today's post is both late and short.

There was a time about 10 years ago when I returned home to my London flat and felt guilty for not properly acknowledging someone. On realising I couldn't even describe him, despite only passing thirty minutes earlier, I wrote this:


I passed you on Blackfriars Bridge,
dropped some change in a polystyrene cup,
and said - you're welcome.

Your sign said you were hungry,
I thought money would be enough
to fill the gap,

But how could it?

I should have stopped,
asked your name, and allowed you for minute
to be someone again.

Thank you for reading,


Colin Davies said...


Tis true, a friend of mine was on the streets for years. He said the hardest thing was not being seen.

I always now make a point of at least saying I haven't got anything to give than just walk on past.

I think you have capture how we all should feel upon realising we that we could have so much more, without having to do that much.

Christo said...

Hmm, makes me fell guilty too that I should do more - at least as I tootle about to city centres by train, there is usually a Big Issue seller by the station so that I can buy the magazine and have a brief chat.
And nowadays as I'm no longer in a hurry, hurry, hurry, I can choose to make the time for human, civilised contact, no matter how brief.

Adele said...

I think this is the best blog post I have read in a while Lara. Writing about something that is unimportant to many people, shows the depth of your goodness and humanitarian nature. It is so easy when you work in the city to pass by the disenfranchised without considering them. Thank you for this poem. It has grace.