[https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/afde0992-d968-4a18-9f6c-e26dab6c2540/d5efs26-d8a36751-d790-418a-b6cc-8ff0d9b84208.jpg/v1/fill/w_900,h_847,q_75,strp/remembering_heart_by_cerealnovels_d5efs26-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9ODQ3IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYWZkZTA5OTItZDk2OC00YTE4LTlmNmMtZTI2ZGFiNmMyNTQwXC9kNWVmczI2LWQ4YTM2NzUxLWQ3OTAtNDE4YS1iNmNjLThmZjBkOWI4NDIwOC5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.IvJikV54GhWw-ciAdVibA7cTb9xiH6jUN6oJ60wa6iY]

This poem comes from an actual occurrence that happened years ago. The memory is so vivid as is the question that still haunts me.

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From the window

of my car

I see dusk fall.

Down a side street

walks a crumpled man

with a small girl

on his shoulders.

Her hair catches

the scattering sunlight.

Are they headed home

to a crumbling apartment

in the distant rundown neighborhood?

I turn away.

To my right,

glass sky scrapers

scrape the sky.

Wealth and poverty

side by side.

There is not enough

and never enough.

I continue down the free way,

haunted by the small girl

with the shining hair.

What will become of her?