The Beggar and the Babe

A poem reflecting and contrasting two different stages of life, amongst other nuances

The Beggar and the Babe

By Dave Brogdon

A curious child breathes deeply from the cool breeze

Filling his lungs with hints of cinnamon, apples, pine cones, and everything autumn

He feels safe

And happy

The wind pushes through his favorite orange sweater and tickles his skin

But the yellow sun rays keep him warm

He wonders if the tiny red bug stays warm

As it crawls across the smooth stone pathway

Up in the deep blue sky, among the cotton candy clouds

His willing ears pick up a beautiful symphony

The birds are tweeting their love songs

He laughs

Silly birds

Maybe if he runs very fast

He can fly too

Or maybe today he will be a pirate

His belly is still full of mom’s stew

Today will be an adventure

……

The old man grumbles his way to the iron framed park bench

The cold wind cuts through his thin brown jacket

Making his bones shake

He hates the cold

It hurts his knees as he sits down

The wooden boards are hard against his back

They offer no compassion for an old man

Doesn’t anyone care to make things comfortable anymore?

His stomach rumbles

Still complaining of his last bland meal

The sharp wind tears at the dry cracks on his lips and hands

The bright sun nearly blinds his eyes

As he looks up at the dull sky

He can feel the hard stone under his thin shoes

And he can hear the annoying chirping of the birds

He reaches into his pocket for another cough drop

That may help delay the pain of the next coughing fit

But his pocket is empty

What a miserable day

What a miserable life.