Haibun 1
Haibun 1
He kicked the doors open with his one good foot clad as it was in a beat-up Converse laces removed a tough and battered old man wildness in his eyes long hair akimbo dirty clothes to match he rolled his wheelchair straight to me hand extended. Close to my ear his hoarse whisper Jesus, Jesus he’s all you need brother guessing that I too was a patient. I probably did look like his colleague that day a somewhat bewildered grin no doubt cautious uncomfortable body-shuffling sitting as was he. Jesus... We don’t need all this crap they’re giving us and (to the orderly) get your hands off my chair I want to set by this man. Take your troubles away he will we don’t need their damn pills just Jesus do you pray you have to if you ever expect to leave here. He held my hand again a tight grasp with both hands he never intended to relax. Remember me tonight when they come to you remember Jesus tell them to go to hell. His hand separated from mine as he was rolled back through the doors his voice fading still instructing me how to be, here.
memory of light
no bridge across the chasm's
raging untamed storms
Copyright © Jack Jordan | Year Posted 2013
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