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| Karen O’Leary |
Thin
dirty
street urchin—
his gaze locks hers.
Bearing a sandwich,
she points to a park bench.
He snarfs down her offering.
“My step beat me and kicked me out.
You’re the lady from the soup kitchen.”
“Your step beat your mom. She’s dead… He’s in jail…
He’s been charged with murder with no bail.”
The teen paled, staring in silence.
“I’m so glad to have found you.
I am a foster mom.
Please come home with me.
We’ll work things out
together.”
Today’s
hope.
