Joyce Chelmo - her pilgrimage

the first time we saw
her was last fall
she was standing
in a patch of grass
between lanes on hwy #10

over layers of clothing
she wore a white sheet
like mother teresa

this spring she stands on a grassy knoll
just beyond the sheriff’s office
holding a magazine for all to see

her hair slips out of
her habit
like a blend
blonde & gray steel wool

she’s stout
her face is weathered
& rough
paper bags & backpacks
lay next to a lawn chair

day after day no matter the weather
you’ll find her seated there
on some kind of pilgrimage
that noone understands

maybe she’s a test.....

i want to buy her breakfast
but my husband won’t stop
he thinks she’s insane
but i think even the insane
need to eat

Joyce Chelmo

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-pilgrimage/