Fresh at the bakery
Posted to Action Poetry
by ARAHH on 2003-11-22 12:00:00
She said
He’s drunk that man
Old man
Since his wife is ill
He can’t help
We can’t help
She told me
See him so early
Early in the morning
It’s cold he’s drunk
Helpless stumbling
Wordless with his rolls
The fog around
Her eyes sparkling
Taste them Feel them
All the warmth
The tries
Still
Searching for some
Answer, young,
“Owl Farm” she said
“Worked there, with
Alcoholics, wrote a
Homework about them –
There’s no hope when
They’re old like that..”,
She said…
Hoping with her
Eyes
That I wouldn’t believe
Her
Which, of course,
i did, needing an
Answer, older,
For change,
Making it clear,
There is escape
And some
Better place.
(reminding me of ‘The Truth’ (Quicksilver Messenger Service), the force field/atmosphere..)
