Post by the road

Post by the road stands unblinking
in ragged remnants of forgotten
words
like dying saint
his body pierced
with thousands of staples, pins and nails
He calls with hope and
vends the glory
and offers deals
and sells
at a discount
both self
and everything in a garage and home

post by the road’s deadly wounded
with biting cold of cruel lonely nights
and rains
and the indifference of the passers-by
Each crack is bleeding tears
and deep uneven wrinkles
run
like furrows, each one pregnant with a word

Like soul
that ever wanes in solitude
Like soul that ever
hopes to see

February 24, 2008