Soup Kitchen

Old men, a few women,
in old coats, third-hand shoes,
struggle up the hill.

Nobody has a wrist-watch.
They only know nightfall,
when the priest arrives,
brandishing his side-door key
to St. Agnes Church Of The Poor.

There’s no guilt in charity,
not when the dumpsters
are low on most food groups,
and the wind’s as bitter
as a bride left at the altar.

So why not a basement
with table and mismatched chairs,
some white-haired angels
ladling soup into their bowls.

They’ve long forgotten
the “why” of their predicament.
“Why not” will have to do.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, North Dakota Quarterly and Dissident Voice. Latest books, ”Between Two Fires”, “Covert” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in California Quarterly, Birmingham Arts Journal, La Presa and Shot Glass Journal. Read other articles by John.