Susan K. Rowse
Poor Sweet Geraldine
I saw her for the first time down by the Visitor Center
She made a bed of cardboard to make it through the winter
She sat and rocked away her days and sipped a cup of brew
She never begged or spoke a word...she was someone's sister too
Or mother...was she a mother? Where had her children gone?
Why was she here, this poor cold soul...who didn't have a home?
Had they forgotten this dear sad woman or thought she in a ward...
Of mental patient madness or social castes gone hard?
She wore just about everything that she could put upon
This sad frail figure of a woman...nothing much but bones
Her eyes were sunken with lines of age but there I saw a smile
I reached out to help her up...the stench right then was vile
When a warm whisper asked of me, Have you change to spare?'
If you have the right kind of heart show me that you care.
I stooped just then to hold her hand and asked her where she'd been
When in a tiny voice she said, Hi, I'm Geraldine.
My birthday is tomorrow...will you come and sit with me?
I'll do much more, my friend, I said.We'll have a grand party.
What would you like if you could have anything you'd wish?
I'd like to visit heaven...I am so day-um tired of all of this.
I took her in to clean her up, her skin was full of sores
She felt just like an angel when her words bit to the core
Mame, she said,Our nation failed to honor their on kin...
We folks can't make it anymore on what we get from them...
They only care for votes that count...we have no more to give'.
They want to secure themselves but care not how we live.
Just then she choked and spit up blood and I began to cry...
We drove on to a hospital and then we were denied
This here ain't no free clinic, take her on out of here
Try the one just south of town they'll take her kind in there...
I cringed to think this state of mine had failed to do their best
When Geraldine and this here woman put them to a test...
Did you know her son was mayor once...of the town just down the way
That she once gave dinners for the poor on Thanksgiving Day?
Where's your heart and is your Mom well feed and safe at home?
And your sweet sisters, are they clothed and kids...all fed and groomed?
The doctor came and wheeled my friend and put her in a bed.
He turned and kissed her boney hands...my heart then filled with dread
He didn't speak for then his eyes told me what I had feared
This here frail lady of the street had spent her better years
Caring for the others who didn't have a chance
When fate turned upon her then without a second glance
She lost her home and all her pets, her kids? Adopted...gone
Gerladine was cast aside and then began to roam
She slept where ever there was heat...a vent or canopy
Her health began to fail and her eyes forgot to see
She made it through the night til morn and when I came around
The staff had brought her birthday cake and a cotton lacey gown
She didn't make it that next day but heaven has a way
Of making angels out of soot and graces...come what may
They buried Gerry in her gown, lain in a paupers grave
We say this land is freedom with a home for all her brave
Someone forgot to make the laws...these men, fathers...brothers
That in their haste they left her out and she is all their mothers.
I visit her on her birthday...in this land of the free
I still regret the laws that shun and yes...it bothers me