last night I
took the bus
from the trainstation
next to the freeway
under the overpass

just at that time
when dusk shifts to dark
when homeless-people
our unhoused-humans
scramble
for a decent place
to sleep

the bus filled up
first us
some students and me

next stop
across from the shelter
a couple of shabby looking men

one of them shaking in his seat
and I wondered
what it is like?
to be rejected at the shelter
what are the options?
where is he going?
where will he sleep?
he was carrying no gear
just a small dirty bundle and a backpack

when I let it in
the horrendous state of affairs
this city with google busses and homeless people
this area where regular working people cannot afford a house
this place where
despair
hits
my
heart
I tear up in my seat
on the bus

next stop
another shabby looking human
no luggage
does he have a place to stay?

then a few blocks up the avenue
I see a woman on the curb
waving her hand
calling the bus to stop
she fuzzes around and asks someone to move to another seat
I think for a moment she’s bringing in a wheelchair
but no it’s a cart
full of stuff
plastic bags sliding off the heaping pile

her whole home
in one cart

she looks stunning
white hair and wrinkles
artistic outfit
and a large
flamboyant
hat

wearing
makeup
and
a lot of
dignity

I sit in the back
a few steps up
near the young students

in front of us
in plain site
a summary of
manmade tragedy

we humans
were
unhoused
for eons of time
hunters and gatherers
moving in bands
feeding each other
fearing fourlegged predators
not uniformed guards
or systems of exploitation

I get off the bus
walk the dark streets
a few blocks to my home

taking it all in
this unexpected encounter
with reality for hundreds
no millions
every day

my heart breaks

(C) Maja Bengtson 2018