Posted: Monday, March 5, 2012 3:21:16 AM
That old man
down the street
dead, this week, and his books
all paper-dove orphans on the dead grass.
He was a reader, you know,
and all his little vanilla children
and the air all dark
with the smell of the rain coming
so I took pity on them.
What a fool I must have looked
carrying armfuls of dog-eared orphans
to my room all cloudy afternoon
but I got them all before the rain started falling.
And now, that old man and I, we’re linked.
Because I took his books for him
and I know
he would have done the same for me.