Artists, twenty or more, sitting at tables regulars have their one spaces The room provided by ones who care Longing for a breakthrough for those Hoping for survival Mostly homeless, they mingle together Proud of their work; greet each other Hoping customers will come through the door The work room opens at nine and closes at three The artists have to go their way None really know the other’s plight Some disappear, never to return Others return, for tomorrow anyway Always with hope for success and sales Their work does sell, little by little Patrons are recognized and clung to Encouragement by default A sale sometimes causing tears Cigarettes for a day or week or alcohol and drugs Can’t kick the habit; don’t even ask Can’t keep a job, but they have this talent I’ll try again soon; I’d like to clean up Become a new moon, celestial speaking Hope is always preponderate Women do their work; their art Some need needles for darning or knitting Others need them too, for other purposes I look them in the eye, wishing peace and health They have learned to trust me just as they Have learned to watch out for each other We are all God’s children; took different paths Some more challenging only by chance Think about walking in others shoes Realize what they have to go through Be responsible and do not judge We are all brothers and sisters And it is so true that we need each other When I was needy you were there to help When I was broken you stood by to mend When down and out you knew what gifts to send So proud to know you and call you my friend Stanski April 13, 2020 ^
Skip to content
Steve Haarman 