The Red Buckets.

those red buckets are still there, I thought
the only thing has changed was the ones holding them
but not the buckets, they stayed the same
as they shifted their bodies towards me the buckets turned to me
looking, staring, gazing
I could see the words glued:
Japan Disaster Relief
and I thought, those red buckets are still there
but the people aren't the same
they were the Japanese
middle-aged women
some wore kimonos, some wore something more casual
something that cheered the spring is finally here
the mustard colored kimono caught my eyes more than the blue one
I took my wallet out
and I dropped my 70 pence off into the red buckets
they smiled at me
telling me have a good day miss!
I thought, those red buckets are still there
I thought, those red buckets are still the same
they are immortal, long-lived, never-withered.

I past them all once again
but this time I was looking for something to eat
hello miss, can I have a jacket potato with tuna and mayo please? I said
butter? she looked at me waiting for an answer
so I spilled yes, please
but still, I thought, those red buckets are still there
I took my food and went to the fountain to eat
I sat, I ate, my eyes wandered around
an old man was sitting right in front me
and my head whispered and prayed, no please old man don't look at me
but then seconds later off he went somewhere
there few meters away a father was scooping a mouthful potato jacket into his son's mouth
and I thought, what a loving father he is
my eyes were still running around
my mouth was still munching
my heart was still beating
then I thought, those red buckets are still there and they all are still the same.

they gathered around, the Japanese
but this time, the pack was mixed with the locals
and the children
they looked, different
as I lifted my head and stared at them all
I knew that the middle-aged Japanese women married those local guys
and the children who looked so much of non-Japanese were theirs
I thought at that time that, this is a lovely world
so colorful, so bright, so much of hope
but when my gaze fall onto those red buckets,
I thought, those red buckets are still there
and my 70 pence too
I looked at my 2.80 pounds potato jacket
and I thought of my 70 pence
I felt bad about myself
appalled
helpless
is this the enactment of selfishness? I thought
why couldn't I give them more?
just a little bit more
I gasped.

there was this young boy
with curly hair, dark-skinned
hopping, jumping, trotting
he landed in front of me showing his cute little bums
and I noticed his little bucket he gripped tight
oh what is that bucket for? I thought
it wasn't red
but when his small body turned, his own little bucket turned too
and there it was
Japan Disaster Appeal
I felt as if my potato stuck in my throat
I felt like gagging
oh what a boy his age knows about charity? I thought
his too young
too naive
but there he was running joyously
holding his little bucket with his little fingers
and I thought, he must be a good boy
God bless him, God bless his parents, God bless those with the red buckets
will God bless me too?
I looked at my 2.80 pounds potato jacket, and thought of my 70 pence
and I looked at that boy with that little bucket
I hope that God will bless me too.

those red buckets are still there
and they are still the same.