It seemed like only yesterday

An old man passed me in the high street,

he was uneven in both gait and expression.

I gazed steadfastly at the dress in the window,

guiltily unwilling to add a further burden

to an already overburdened there and now.

The price to pay seemed reasonable,

and I thought that perhaps some childish

hour had come again; a young girl poised

on the cusp; but I could sense a hesitation

behind me as desire vied with compassion.

It darkened then, a typically November 

caprice, and instantly the price tag became
as though it had no principle at all. 

So I turned, but just a little too late;

He was gone, leaving an imprint that 

will remain as indelible as his winter. 

Reviews

[CD Campbell]

I do the same thing at intersections with panhandlers. I want to give, but the light turns green and its time to move on. It reminds me of how thin that line of morality is and how that "right" decision seems to always come to late. It hurts because we always desire to be that good person.
It is a really good poem. Easy to follow, easy to absorb. Intelligent wording without being high brow. An emotional quandary I can appreciate. CD

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is so deep...that moment we surrender to the idea that having everything we want is not as important as having just what we need...and giving to others so that they have what they need.

can't put a price tag on life.

[h d e rushin]

Like Dickinson's poems we enter your poems knowing there is a different more "meaningful" meaning other than your will to write them. And also like Dickinson, you fashioned events into ropes that you climbed the edifice of in search of such desired truths. Winter is the price we pay for Autumn just as spring time is the bargained for price tag that winter leaves on our loneliness's / fascinating.
Through a childs eyes, there is no real seasons. The irony here being that (like Emily) the child notices value but not the cold..So simply stated but so true./ beautiful writing...dana