The Halt and the Lame
Some old guy on a park bench
looks like Jesus,
if Jesus had lived to be some old guy.
I'm old, not really, really old
but I look older than that guy on the bench.
From his coat pocket
he scatters crumbs among the pigeons.
The birds are diseased, they got warty stumps for legs.
I know what stumps look like; seen way too many.
He looks at me and winks.
I don't think he's gay; don't care anyway.
I think he can read my mind,
because he just laughs and laughs
as if I had just told the best damn joke ever.
The pigeons rise up and fly away.
It's a beautiful sight,
sunlight speaks through their wing feathers.
Every one of them sick birds is beautiful.
I’m so caught-up in the moment
I forget about disease or stumps.
I still don’t get the joke - never will, I guess.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2024
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