calloused fingers can be heroes - by Neya Krishnan

calloused fingers can be heroes

by Neya Krishnan

calloused fingers slip

into mittens with holes slip

into pockets with holes slip

into a coat with holes.

calloused fingers find change,

ten dollars, and fifty cents worth—

cold to the touch, but the woman

to which the calloused fingers

belong heats up almost instantly

at the thought of lunch.

before she steps into a local deli

she sees a man with calloused fingers

alone in the December frost.

he has no mittens, no pockets,

no coat with holes.

he sits bare. a skeleton of a man.

is it a man or a child?

is he a man or a child?

the woman steps into the deli;

she orders a coke,

two turkey and ham sandwiches.

she sits outside with a skeleton.

she leaves a man

who sleeps for the first time

in a cruel December.