I Think About My Neighbor Mary
Poem By Uriah Hamilton
I think about Mary,
The pieces of her story
As I know it:
Her childhood streets,
The neighborhood cherry tree
She used to climb,
It should have been for fun,
Not for badly needed nourishment,
But she survived,
By strength of will,
A poisoned family life
Of shuffled homes
And ever-changing schools
With her homework assignments missed.
But Mary, did you allow yourself to cry?
Was that too much a luxury for a small girl?
Too much a luxury when your possessions
Were placed on the curbs of lonely streets
Where passersby didn’t know the children
Those possessions belonged to,
Their tattered clothes and tattered lives?
But Mary, you kept yourself alive
And somehow filled your heart with love
And created a better day
For everyone you touched:
Your husband and children,
Your baby brother
Who still has an injured heart,
And people like myself
Who gaze into your soul
Through the words you write.