A POEM - THE BUM AND THE BOTTLE

THE BUM AND THE BOTTLE
I bought a bottle
And sat down on a curb
Outside a bar to work on it.
I’d nearly finished it
When the toothless, dirty bum
Slouching next to me
Eyed the bottle and made great
Gestures for me to send it his way.
If he had asked for cash,
Even a dime,
I’d have shrugged with an easy,
“fuck off.”
But he wanted from me only some beer,
Only what little was left in my bottle.
I felt I couldn’t refuse him that.
My mother had taught me to share,
Especially with the less fortunate.
So I took one last slug and passed the bottle.
“it’s yours” I said,
Knowing fully that he hadn’t any idea
What the words meant, but still understood.
He tipped the bottle and finished it,
And when he’d brought it back down again,
I was long gone.