rush hour by Bonnie Natko
Rush Hour
Missed Connections in Brooklyn
She walked slowly through the rush hour
leaning on the
cart
which held her belongings
worn out, worn
down
and reduced to her
very essence
and obviously
devoured
by life’s many
hours
i slip a dollar in
her cup
and remember
how, once we
felt
Her Two Cents
For the past week I’ve followed the tragic story of Margaret Mary Vojtko, an 83 year old adjunct professor in Pittsburgh who died earlier this month. Her final years were spent in abject poverty: her home was without heat or electricity, she had mounting bills from medical treatments insurance didn’t cover, and she had recently been released, without any form of severance, from a job she held for 25 years. Her story leaves more questions than answers, but one thing is certain: Margaret Mary had a story, just as we all do, and that’s what we need to remember in the moments before we close our hearts and choose to judge.
