grasped in her hand as if she were holding a sacred relic
was a cardboard sign
no one seemed to notice her

yellow scarf wrapped around her wrinkled neck
a red pull over sweater enveloped her upper torso
faded black slacks that were now a muted gray
and no one noticed her

once she was a star...maybe not on a high level
none the less she was a star
the gift illuminated that she offered
and no one noticed her

blackened sidewalks of wind blown debris gathered at her feet
fitting for one who had been thrown away
and yet...no one noticed her

a tear fell from her face
an offering which went unnoticed
a drop in a pool offered by many
but going unnoticed by all

her wrinkled gnarled hands grasped the cardboard sign
words written by blood stained hands
and on a corner where traffic crawled by
I don't think any one noticed her

beat up, chipped, and worn curb-sides had others
all women holding those cardboard signs
not a lot, but scattered around towns across America
and no one noticed them

shrouded ghost images clutched blood stained cardboard signs
all offering tears
and no one noticed

it was if the passer-byers CHOOSE not to see
and I wondered how long these ghost women would stand
with their signs...their tears...before anyone would notice
the cardboard signs written with blood stained words that read...

America's children are dying with no future
STOP WAR
Seed corn must not be planted

11/30/2004

Posted on 01/16/2005
Copyright © 2024 Mark Maxey