I Can't Afford to Be the Hero

Wendy Chapman

I braked as the light changed from yellow to red,
second in line to turn.

A raggedy heap
of dirty clothes
perched on the guardrail -
a buzzard scavenger
with a cardboard beak.

I cocked my head to the side, and shut one eye.
He disappeared into my blindspot.

I had a brief philosophical discussion with myself,
about how easy it is
for the fed
to dismiss the hungry,
as I fiddled with the change in my armrest.

35 cents was all I could spare,
and 35 cents seemed embarrassing.
So, I pretended I didn't care,
turned, and   gave him nothing.