Bread for life
I ask for daily
Given more than I need
A neighbor comes
He doesn’t have enough
For his weary travelers
Just arrived
After mid-night
Ok, Ok
Stop your knocking
You are waking us all up
Especially the dogs
Here’s your bread
I don’t share well
But since you are such
A pest
And I want to go back to bed
I will give it to you
What if he didn’t have to ask?
What if I had given it to him
Earlier?
How was I to anticipate
His need of my extra bread?
Maybe if I paid attention
And asked
What am I to do with this extra?
I would have known
He was running on empty.
© 2013 Julie Clark
Backfromtheborderlands's Blog 
Oh the inconvenience of thinking outside of my own world . . .
Teaching in little, rural, isolated schools – most people want music as it’s always been – patriotic songs that glorify war – marching band that could compete in the Rose parade – not the roots of the negro spiritual or protest songs.
honestly – this did seem related to your poem. Loved it
Thanks Mary! Sounds like cross-cultural kind of work and thinking to me. Little by little. Small shifts in thinking patterns can open up whole new ways of seeing the world.