Shove

She sits on the side walk, countin’ down hours, making sure everything works out for once. Her notepad all open, atop of her skirt hem, pen poised in hand, ready to write. She looks at her watch face, the minutes are ticking, ensuring that her time is really well spent. It comes up behind her, looming as ever, a dark cloud of doubt shadowing light. Cars whizzing past her, shifting her blouse, the one that covers her bruised, beaten arms. A voice calls out, a message to greet her, a whisper of hope in the dark, sullen times. She perks at the voice that’s heard over the traffic, straining to see where the melody comes from. She recognizes a face that is coming towards her, with a cut ‘bove the eyebrow and broken, hurt limbs. She shares a connection, both have been beaten, by people and family, society and life. They fall backwards together, flying through memories, picking up the pieces to mend over their strife.

Kiss on the mouth baby, walkin’ ‘long side you. Share when it’s coming, say good-bye.