She pushes her shopping cart
All she possesses – precious old shoes,
A sweater, a blanket, half an old sandwich
No soap, no toothpaste, no make-up –
All things I need – but she’s not me
I’m not her – except in my recurring dream –
She could be me, I could be her – why not?
What would I need from the cart?
Toothpaste, soap, friends, relatives, a life.
– Viola A Jaffe
