I press a bag with two granola bars and two bananas into his hands.
What is this? He looks confused,
overwhelmed by human contact perhaps.
I explain and feel embarrassed.
It’s not even lunch
barely a snack for a grown man
and it cost me less than $4.
I hope it helps, I say.
Anything helps, he mumbles
as if the words on his sign
have soaked into his soul.
I drive away,
Originally written in my journal in April 2013.