free samples inside–
a homeless man
fills his pockets
Published by
Claudette Russell
Claudette Russell is a retired high school English teacher who lives with her husband in Goodwin State Forest in Hampton, Connecticut. Her work has appeared in various print and online journals. She also collaborates with her husband to create haiga.
View all posts by Claudette Russell
Very beautiful and coincidental; just last night I was thinking about how important it is for poetry to address social issues and not just describe pretty, easy things. Thank you for this thought provoking contribution!
drunk caregivers
kick disabled man
this is community living
Claudette, your poem really hits home in a nostalgic way. I have so often seen the homeless gorging themselves (maybe their only meal of the day) at art openings in galleries.
many see the homeless, the vagrant, the disable, those on hard times; yet, how often one’s first thought borders on repugnancy/repulsion. then, continuing on, how quicky the distance become; out of sight, out of mind.
but at another hour, there might be any of us; in need of a handout or simply a kind word…
–
pale inside
all yellow on the outside–
this breakfast banana
Claudette:
Great ‘ku, nicely balanced.
worn blankets
the homeless
left behind
Great haiku. I really feel we shouldn’t avoid important issues like this, and your haiku is very powerful.
down the sidewalk
an old vagrant
daisies in his mouth
Very beautiful and coincidental; just last night I was thinking about how important it is for poetry to address social issues and not just describe pretty, easy things. Thank you for this thought provoking contribution!
drunk caregivers
kick disabled man
this is community living
You’re certainly off to a good start, Claudette. I’ll be looking for more of your work.
first snow
the homeless man
hugs his coffee cup
Claudette, your poem really hits home in a nostalgic way. I have so often seen the homeless gorging themselves (maybe their only meal of the day) at art openings in galleries.
art openings
gourmet stops
for the homeless
many see the homeless, the vagrant, the disable, those on hard times; yet, how often one’s first thought borders on repugnancy/repulsion. then, continuing on, how quicky the distance become; out of sight, out of mind.
but at another hour, there might be any of us; in need of a handout or simply a kind word…
–
pale inside
all yellow on the outside–
this breakfast banana
Grand Central dawn
a homeless family sleeps
on the benches
* 1978, Manhattan— the Grand Central Station waiting room