He is a man unloved,
save by the seven-year-old daughter
of the soldier he saved
when he lost his soul
and won that tarnished medal he pawned.
And the girl often sits at her second-story window,
staring into the colors of rain,
who mommy says is safe in a home.
and is now the humble king of his lowly overpass.
The withered savior, a messianic mess,
gathers in his swarm-like cavalry
of sea-horse thoughts.
Loneliness
by a beaten leather jacket,
now unsupple—hardened
like an old pencil eraser—
a lapidary coat
in shades of darkening brown.
Unbeknownst to all,
the seven-year-old girl
thinks of her beloved father and
imagines the savior in that leather jacket
who has fallen out, and lies
crumpled like a rag
while the jacket, specter-like,
continues to stand on its own,
and inherits the kingdom
under the overpass.
[13]
O