You were nothing but a parable to me.
Your sad, short story was the basis for my novel;
my accidental life contrasting with your accidental death.
Looking back, I see there was more to you than a nonsensical ending.
So now I’m gathering up the pages that you left behind.
beneath my street clothes
logo emblazoned on chest,
no one the wiser
serve others in need
and ask nothing in return,
is its own reward
I am overwhelmed
having lost my home and car,
you flood me with hope
the house is gone now
your foundation still standing,
ask her to sit down
The Rag Blog / July 9, 2008