FREE WRITE PETTY CASH

I saw her while she was asking for money

she came at me with a smile

I skirted wide around her

the sun was bright and though February it seemed a perfect spring day

and had no desire to affront this thought

Sneaky smiling like that

If she does not raise any money today will she be beat

by a husband or father or someone that she is slave to

does she really need that money for her children

does she have any, she looks a child herself

I would rather enjoy the fountains spraying in the square

perfume stores call out my name

food sellers with treats to enjoy stand across the way

but now all I can think about is Her

have I done wrong to a fellow human being

I have some change in my pocket for a lunch

shall I give it to her?

what about the rest?

I have been saving it for something that I have been eyeing  for ages, embarrassed to spend money on myself

but now that I had decided to take the plunge and offer myself that sweet oily perfume

I Have not worn perfume in ages, seemed a relic of the past but

I recently resuscitated the desire to make myself seem special to no one else if not me

the perfume would transform me just a bit, make me a little more worth while

to whom and why I could not say

but now that I am here on the threshold of the store with my long saved cash in hand and a tiny bit

for a small lunch to celebrate myself all at once

I find her here, though she has already forgotten me and moved on to the next stranger, she forces her way into my thoughts and now I am not sure i want that perfume anymore, nor am I hunger for my lunch

I have decided I will not give my change to her, I do not trust she really has children starving at home

but nor will I spend it on myself, I will keep for another day when I decide to do something special, different and meaningful of my own choice, that which I deeply desire so much that doing it feels like it is spontaneous rather than contrived.  But for today, thinking of myself seems far too cold and selfish and desolate because she has forced herself into my mind and there is no more room for me.Week 6 Chapter 21 Poem 42 Discursive Poem

Petty Cash

I saw her in the street asking for money.

Though it was February, the sun in Rome was bright, a perfect day of spring.

She came at me with a smile,

I skirted wide around her.

Sneaky smiling like that, I thought.

If she does not raise a round sum will she be beaten black and blue

by a husband or father, someone that she is slave to?

Where are these starving children she speaks of? She looks a child herself.

I would rather watch the ancient white fountains

 spraying in the square

than contemplate

her fate.

Change in my pocket for a wisp of lunch and a wad of paper bills

saved for a sweet perfume that I had not worn in years,

a relic of the past but the desire to make myself special

to no one else if not me had resuscitated.

 

The oily scent rubbed on my wrists would transform me,

make me more worthwhile,

to whom and why

I could not say.

On the doorstep of the shop

that smells of vanilla, sandalwood and vetiver,

my long saved treasure in hand and a tiny bit

for a bite to celebrate myself all at once,

I find her.

Though she has moved on to the next stranger,

the perfume conquers me no more,

nor am I hungry for my little lunch.

I will not give her my petty cash, nor will I spend it on myself.

I will keep it for another day,

for something that I desire intensely like the sweet smell

of Vanitas or Ambra Aura on my arms but now, that desire is cold and desolate

because she has forced herself into my mind and there is no room for me.

LR