That yellow duffle bag was always on her shoulder sometimes light, sometimes heavy.
“What you got in that bag sweetie?” The Stranger asks looking at her shoulder.
Head down, earphones in, she just waved hi, oblivious to what was asked.
The Yellow Duffle bag she holds close to her heart,
as it represents more than an accessory piece.
At the same time every Thursday in Bellway park, three benches from the pond,
She fiddles in the yellow duffle bag rearranging contents.
He walks up and sits next to her, no hello, no expression,
just a body moving through the day.
A bag is handed off and he leaves.
She comes in hot,
Ranting about the kids throwing their balls and making too much noise.
Frustrated she grabs the bag and vanished within seconds.
Hand and hand father and daughter sit on the bench peacefully.
The little girl hands her a fist full of dandelions and smiles.
The father takes the two brown paper bags and says, “Thank you.”
The yellow duffle bag is seen and known by few,
The yellow duffle bag provides meals in the park.
The yellow duffle bag is there to feed, be a good deed,
and a conversation piece, sometimes good, sometimes bad, among the curious.