Sunday, June 11, 2006

Post-Outreach Moon Post

Is the moon tired? she looks so pale
Within her misty veil
She scales the sky from east to west,
And takes no rest.

Before the coming of the night
The moon shows papery white;
Before the dawning of the day
She fades away.

by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

It was a full moon tonight.

My eyes burn slightly from being up so late. It was a beautiful night. Chilly for those who had to stay out all night in it, but perfect for ones nestled inside homes, clubs, restaurants and cars and buses.

The moon reminded me that right now would be my last night at outreach. The last time I will crane my neck to see the pre-dawn moon that dips back into the belly of the sky after being a hard knob of light all night. How it changes--coyly, like a languid eyelid winking at me on my drive back home.

The last time I will witness life laughing, crying outside seedy greyhound parking garages, budget motels and oppressive 7/11 donut shacks at 4:00 in the morning with a fat moon watching. Who will I remember from tonight? Who will fade leaving behind a shadow to haunt me years from now, maybe when I am drinking tea and I'm forty?

I will remember three people from tonight. I will write them down on my blog, etching them a nook inside my brain. The woman who told us how desperately she wanted to get clean, about her mother who died two years ago, the cops, her children. She wore all black, and she was very high. I gave her some water to drink in a cup, which she held precariously close to the window, and as I was listening to her, I worried that she will spill the water all over my lap. She cried. At first, I had trouble understanding her because she had a way of whipping her head around and letting the wind snatch all her words away. She didn't spill anything on me.

There was a 62-yr-old man pushing a wheelchair, muttering angrily to himself. Turned out he was a Vietnam veteran who had fought in Cambodia. He showed me his scars--three darkened patches that I could barely see in his dark face. He claimed they were bullet wounds which I only half-believed. Somebody had stabbed his thigh with a needle, and robbed him earlier in the night. I could see the blood soak through his khakis. He cried angrily, bitterly flinging his tears off his eyes.

A green-eyed black man. His eyes were really a light gray, rimmed in a strange green. He made us laugh and told us we were blessed. He asked to exchange some change he had for dollar bills, and we told him we had no money in the van. Sorry. He grinned happily and said, "Don't be sorry, God never made nothin' sorry."

6 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

A dark haired girl. Her eyes hidden behind her dirty eye glasses, bad posture and shuffled walk. Wonder who it was

3:48 AM  
Blogger munkey t. cat said...

"Murder is the only crime that does not increase during the full moon. Theft, disorderly conduct, larceny, armed robbery, assault and battery, and rape all statistically increase dramatically during the full moon." - Viscosity

3:57 AM  
Blogger Sony Pony said...

well I did see an incredibly beautiful woman, with dark hair and like a "don't mess w/ me, I'm a bad ass" walk; it could have been her, anony.

Munkey: You are not gonna believe me, but because you have this on your blog, I remembered it Sat. night! And I told everyone in the van this factoid. It was extra busy this weekend..weird..

3:59 AM  
Anonymous Chandni said...

This is completely brainless bilge. Are you retarded or just an emotional child?

11:49 PM  
Blogger Sony Pony said...

huh? hey, are you my stalker?

12:02 AM  
Blogger Sony Pony said...

Okay; what exactly offended you about my post, oh chandini? Was it the moon imagery? Or is it descriptions of poor people? I am so puzzled, and like really curious. Did you forget to take your medication this morning? Sudden spasm of venom all over my blog. Make sense when you type, yeah? Coherence is a virtue.

12:11 AM  

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