A place of writing and reflection…
The dark has lifted
for a moment now,
and film of dirt and sweat,
blurring his eye focus
to make crazy patterns on the road,
The cool clean cloth
feels sweet against his face.
He remembers his mother
had the same gentleness in her touch
when she had washed from him
the grime a child’s play made,
these many years ago,
and held a fresh white towel
close. This towel, too, he sees
The road no longer blurs
and rocks before his eyes.
He tries to smile a little
across the pain that cracks his lips,
and hands the woman’s kerchief
back to her.
His dark eyes look, then, into hers.
He leaves remembrance
of his gratitude indelible
upon her towel’s whiteness, and carries
indelible upon his heart
Veronica’s gentle act of courtesy.
—Anna Mae Marheineke, rscj, United States
The Faithbook 2012
Poem curtesy of rscjinternational.org