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David McKenna's Thoughts Spindrift We are windwater spiritdust making choices that last forever We are freedriven willfulbound evoking how where what when and why We are infinite momentary messages adrift in bottles We are innocent violent the lost children of eternity David McKenna/Linked Haiku/Chicago
Midnight Rainbow Starlight casts a skin of sparkle on sleeping snow windswept deep and blue Splintered whiskers in swollen rings of moon halo spin a fleshy hue Shivering whispers secrets in a shrouded breeze breath reflects soft light Branch shadows whistle low sweet and slow melodies this long winter’s night David McKenna/Linked Haiku/Chicago
Homeless Wanderer This morning I drove downtown to the Greyhound bus station and picked up my 35 year old wanderer my homeless eldest son who’s been seriously on the run from the “Ghoulie” within his restless spirit all his adult life but he may not know that
damned if I know what he knows he never really lets me in anyway he’s back again on a snowy Thanksgiving morning
he’s hauling two plastic bags this time as opposed to the one he had the last has a little bit more meat on his bones a little bit more spark in his eye a little bit more life in his speak and at least $4 in his pocket he’s proud that he didn’t come home penniless I didn’t ask him to dinner with us because my life partner thinks he’s insane and dangerous
he just might be and I might be too close to see it but yeah I know the “Ghoulie’s” there I’ve seen it too often to be blind to it
besides we’re heading over to her son’s today the one with the PHD and he and he just don’t mix well
and there wasn’t much notice just a day or two
he’s going to hunker in with his mom again spend the winter in her apartment sleep warm on a futon maybe find a job kind of share space with her and his brother who’s still washing dishes and working off his probation working on Thanksgiving Day for minimum pay the felon’s way
his mom will be going to her folks’ at noon going alone he’s not invited there either they think he’s crazy too gave up on him a long time ago no grandchild of theirs
it’s hard to be accepted home again even on Thanksgiving Day when so many times before you’ve thrown it all away when so many times before you’ve walked on out the door without a wave goodbye and there’s been years between collect phone calls asking for emergency money or postcards just to let family know that you’re okay no not much home to come home to the longer you’re astray David McKenna/Chicago Social Servant Holidays are dire and desperate when you can’t afford medicine The sound of wind is mean to immigrants huddled for warmth in a bed Silent snow falls as elderly sit quietly starving in their room Women are beaten as anger and frustration mix drugs and erupt Life’s miracle is that miserable children are able to smile David McKenna/Chicago Linked Haiku 2007
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Aging Concepts |