SAVING THE LITTLE PUP

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While on a walk some time ago,

along the sidewalk of a beach,

I came upon a commotion.

There were people stopping traffic

to protect a little seal pup

who had wandered to the street. 

Afraid, it cried as it hid 

under one car, then another.

Official helpers had been called

but the wait seemed so long.

Intent walkers, joggers, runners

kept going, looking forward.

We bystanders gasped 

as some drivers drove on

regardless of the baby

they might kill.

My heart, my nerves
could not withstand
the tightness of this tension.

I left with aprehension

hearing sirens in the distance.

Now, as I review that scene,

I see myself through all.

Because sometimes I fear the fear

that right before me crawls, 

Sometimes I hide. 

I often cry.

Sometimes I feel helpless.

I rush by.

Sometimes I help 

while other times I watch, 

most times caring, but sometimes not.

Always I worry, wondering if in time

those in charge will solve world's crisis.
Trying to escape the tension,
I walk, walk, walk waiting

to hear sirens of hope in the distance.


(This happened in Carlsbad, California.  I'll never know what happened to that little pup.)

(For Poets United.)