Walking in the cold early winter wind <br />the city is decorated for the holiday season <br />I walk down Michigan Avenue <br />an old man sits on the sidewalk and rocks back and forth <br />He's wearing a soiled Santa cap <br />“ Please help me, I am an old vet.” <br />The wind picks up and people continue to pass him <br />“ I’m hungry, help me get something to eat.” <br />People do not look down, they just keep walking <br />I stopped a few feet away from him <br />and smoke a cigarette and watch. <br />“ It’s my birthday today, I’m 67 years old, please help me” <br />A woman wearing a full-length mink coat, pushing her walker <br />almost runs over his legs. She stops and looks down at him. <br />The wind howls and she yells, <br />“ Move your legs so I can get by…” <br />“Please help me.” <br />“ I need to get by…” <br />“Any change would be greatly appreciated.” <br />She goes into her designer purse <br />and pulls out a dollar. <br />She drops it towards where he is sitting <br />but the wind takes it away. <br />He jumps up and weaves through the crowd <br />frantically trying to catch the runaway bill. <br />She smiles and pushes her titanium walker into the wind. <br />I flick my cigarette onto the sidewalk <br />where it gets trampled by hundreds of feet without faces <br />I begin to walk back to work <br />the clouds are giving way to some sun rays <br />I pull my coat collar up and stick my hands in my pockets <br />The wind is getting stronger, traffic is at a stand still <br />then I faintly hear his voice behind me, <br />“ It’s my birthday today…”<br /><br />Charles Lara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-my-birthday/
