An old man in greasy garb
With a red neck scarf and
A dirty oily hat
Displayed
Sundries for sale
On our porch.
I wanted the red colored juice.
It looked like it was sweet,
But he had other things spread out, and
Was talking about them, and
My sister knocked over
The glass jar of red juice, and
It broke and bled red
All over our cement porch, and
The old man looked at it
With hollow sad eyes, and
My mom was apologetic, and
Gave him money for
The sweet red juice I never tasted.
We watched him walk away
With two bags of sundries, and
My sister skipped after him –
Singing
Down the sidewalk, and
My mom called after her while
Picking up sticky red pieces of
Broken glass.
