Thrift shop.
Blue jeans, dirty jacket.
Doubtful, unsure-
Negotiating the price of
Blessings for all the
Half-hearted prayers--
Needs of parched
Farmers discounted
From the fate of sailors
who despise rain.
Tears of mothers,
Compensated out of
The debauchery of
Chauvinistic men.
Cry of animals for
Carbon footprint
Left by private jets,
And death of soldiers
From foul-mouthed
Politicians.
I saw him beg for
Mercy for kids against
A caricature of POTUS,
To no effect-
But he stood his ground
Counting coins of
Patience to bet it all
Against a hope that was
Nowhere to be found.
Because when miracles
are outdated-
If he doesn't look for
them in a place, where
things are useful again-
Who else would?