Walking home Christmas time
late evening
bags full in both hands
and I spy a lady
going through the bin
in front of the house.


If it weren’t Kyiv
it would be an affront.
But I walk straight by
as she adjusts her
half pink wool hat
and reaches down deep again ……..


So many surprises await her!
A half eaten sandwich, 5 kopeck bottles
a purple hair pin, old tomatoes
dry paper for tonight’s bed.


And for me?
No surprises.
I know what I’ve bought.


I’m the one who’s been caught.

Category: Poems Comments Off on Surprises

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