Kindness: a deed


The coffee shop at the end of the block.
An eastern sun through a steam smeared window.
A white-haired woman alone at a small wooden table.
An unsteady newspaper held up to straining eyes.
Footsteps across a hardwood floor.
A blue-sweatered man with an open hand.
     Here, try these, they magnify the print, solve the riddles of letters.
Mirrored in the shop window: a faint blush, inquiring smile.
     No, please keep them, I know where to find another pair.
Footsteps across a hardwood floor.
A tear on a cheekbone caught with a palm.
In some distant galaxy incense burns.
A planet stops weeping.
Someone comes back to life.


16 Comments

  1. A deed ordinarily unnoticed and rarely celebrated. That you’ve done both
    is worthy of affirmation! Thanks, Steve.

  2. Sometimes we don’t even realize our little acts of kindness are so huge when received. Thanks Steve for this gentle reminder in such a sweet way.

  3. Your words capture the essence of the world that should make the headlines rather than the ugly noise that usually does.

  4. The white-haired woman by the steamy coffee shop window straining to read – could be me, having forgotten my drug store reading glasses and squinting to clear the blur of the Guardian Weekly’s crossword. The next time that happens, I will keep my (hearing-aided) ears pricked for the sound of footfalls coming my way past the display of croissants and cranberry scones. Maybe it will be my friend, Stephen Berg.

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