How it Began

I see him leaning against an oak tree in the church yard




Naked arms protrude from a lambskin vest    

Grimy jeans melt into motorcycle boots

Keys to forgotten locks jangle on his belt

I smell him

His odor fills the space between us

I could turn away

Walk back into Grace Church

Eat my free oatmeal

I could leave with a full belly

Instead I walk toward him and hand him




1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “How it Began

  1. Stunning… very amazing theme. I will write about it also!

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