A Bruised Reed, A Smoldering Wick

I sit trying to email my board, notes for the upcoming board meeting,
at the same time, edit a video highlighting our girls for National Women Day
The cinematographer powerfully, amazing
captured each girls' beauty, story, and powerful essence

I read an email that threatens this space
some bureaucratic error
erasing not 1 but 2 zero's

they come in 1 or 2 at a time
sit, chatter, move around
one slips a note
"my water is off, can I do laundry at your house"
and nervously laughs as she states
the basket is already in my car

another waits until everyone is gone
"I need a job- I REALLY need a job"
my mom brings in 350 dollars a month
it affects everything I do"
I grimace as I remember being called by the manager of Safeway to pick up the thief
threatening to send her to jail
her crime stealing 
hamburger meat

i look down to finish my email
and familiar faces walk
through the door
an old man, an addicted mother, a woman-child and her baby
we have been here
before
before that
and 
before that
but they still need help
in their honest brokeness
they still love, and care, and want the best
but it is complicated
it is not easy
it is not quick

behind me on the board 
lists of names
some eeking towards success
others are urgent
still others
"un-helpable"

broken systems shutting down
clinching its unjust fist
to strangle out the last 
streams of hope
undocumented, uneducated, unemployed
unimportant

a bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not snuff outuntil justice has victory.