In Praise of Having Some, and Some to Give...and Poets
I posted this on Facebook but can't get it out of my mind. So I share it with you all too.
Saturday I went to Whole Foods in Ravenna, to pick up some food for a party. When I came out I found myself walking toward a woman who was stationed outside--you know the type, down but not out, often selling Real Change for a dollar, a deal I try to take them up on whenever I can. But as I approached, she, older than I by a good many years, said "Would you like a poem? Just donate what you can." She had a sheaf of papers in her hand, wrinkled photocopies of what was clearly original work. How could I say no? For a couple of weeks I've been wrestling with a poem I'm getting paid good money to write, and here she is, in her stained sweatshirt and baggy skirt, offering her own work for whatever I could manage. But when I said I'd be happy to buy one, and that I was a poet too, she said "Want me to say one for you?" And there on the street, in front of that big old yuppie grocery store, she gave it all she had. Her eyes shone and she gestured just as I would have had I been the one doing the telling. I won't give away the poem, but it was about looking toward the west and being glad you're alive. I cried for forty five minutes after I left. I gave her all the cash I had, which really wasn't much, and took her work, and knew I had encountered yet another angel, someone who shows up to ask something , to give something, and to show you how very, very lucky you are. Her name's Diane. If you see her, let her tell you a poem. And lay some cash on her. She's a poet, and poets deserve it.
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Joni's song fits very well into it...
You're lucky to have Diane in your neighborhood. I wish I could have heard her...
I'm so happy you stopped and took a little time out of your day for her. 
