White Guilt

Seeing that he was black, and dressed in ragged clothes,
I assumed the worst for the man.
But I wasn't going anywhere,
I had no agenda in mind.
I watched him pass the first time, his head dropped,
Then passed him again several minutes later
Around the same spot near the skating rink.
This time, I stopped him.
"Excuse me," I said, feeling humble
But aiming for magnanimity.
"Can I buy you a meal?"
"Sure," he said.
We started walking towards a coney shop
And talked about his life.
He'd just lost his job at a manufacturing plant
And was, as I had thought, out on the streets.
We ate.
I recited him a poem, which he didn't understand or appreciate,
And we left.
He asked for money for a cab.
He needed to get across town to see his family.
I must admit, I hesitated,
But I finally gave him the money needed.
Then something happened to both of our hearts.
He was no longer a homeless black man
And I was no longer an over-privileged white boy.
We were two souls, aimed at love,
And when we embraced,
We knew we had hit the mark.