Pitiful by Jeffrey Zable
Driving home in a cold, pouring rain I spot this guy
limping along in the street completely barefoot,
wearing only a t-shirt with pants hanging halfway down
Thinking this one of the more pitiful sights I’ve seen lately
I stop my car, reach in my wallet, pull out a five-dollar bill
and ask my wife to give it to him.
Standing in front of him holding her umbrella she hands him
the bill and he holds it in his hands just staring at it.
“What did he say?” I ask, and she answers, “I don’t believe it!”
Driving onward, I’m hoping he believes it enough to put
the soaked bill in his pocket and is able to at least get some food
before the bill is so washed out that no one will take it. . .
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