Little Guy Three days, three nights of continuous rain.
Freezing cold was I in an old Greek home, that was built in the neighborhood, before the big war.
In the back streets of Beyoglu. A loud cry can be heard, in a 100-meter-deep construction well. The cries echoed continuously.
How I prayed for the life stuck, may it humanely leave. I am feeling its immense pain. On the third night disturbed was my soul. I dressed warmly in the blistering cold.
Enter the dangerous trenches to find the loudest of voices was actually the tiniest of kittens, half-deathly cold.
Little guy I am in a massive old home that is heated and in this weather I am still very icy. How did you survive this horrid wet cold? How I am proud of your courage to endure, you teach me to be bold.
I fed him milk and noticed the single eye missing and injured spirit that I would now care for. I am going to have to keep you outside.
For I will leave soon and want you to survive on your own.
Fifteen more days and fifteen more nights, he stood huddled at my door. I have a flight soon I begged, Kanata is my home.
Please leave and try to make it on your own. Don’t follow me, there are too many like you to keep score. Neighbors had called him omen.
How my heart hurt for the higher; called the lack in human compassion. The spirits of many who come to earth to experience hardship. The city eventually picked him up, how I was sad when told.
Gone was my little guy, I risked my life for...
* Beyoglu is a cobblestoned historic street in Istanbul, Turkey