Avoidance Of Doubt

THE OUTSTRETCHED HAND

It entreats you in the subway,
even as you turn your head away
it rises from filthy drinking water,
creeps up the stairs of your concrete tower;
left behind by those working
while you sleep, it reaches out
right into your dreams.

Avert your eyes, avoid all doubt
about your responsibility,
about what drove it to
cling to the upturned boat,
get caged by barbed wire,
hammered flat to the ground,
still waving at the lens.

It has no voice, no guns, no money
no family, face or body
as long as you ignore the hand,
stop yourself from reaching out,
it will never become a person,
it will not touch you
unless it already has.