The Scenery; The Ride
The train travels through chilly spring sunshine today and stops now and then allow one a peek at the scenery, the chance to run an errand, the dropping off and picking up of a daughter on a mission. The tracks run over rocky ground these days, past pockets of poverty and homeless people, troubled souls that walk the streets at night, heads held low while seeking a high.
The city lights shine brightly like golden chandeliers on one side of the tracks, and on the other side, the lights seem hazy, trying to shine through misery and hope, some broken out on purpose to hide a deed or two. The scents vary from tiny expensive meals cooked and served in elite restaurants to the pot-crock stews in the suburbs, to the scent of scraps rescued from dumpsters and heated over big barrels of fire.
The Feelings and Thoughts of the Hobo
Fear and hope grips the stomach of the hobo, each in their turn. Will the check come in time? Will the so-called friends pay back the money they owe? Will it ever go back to being okay? Or is this the new deformed way of living the golden years.
Pray, meditate, and pray again. Don’t give up the hope. Whatever else you let go, never give up that.
I want to draw a hobo, and then paint that hobo happier.
Karen Chaffee 2009
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