It gnaws at my eyelids, bidding
me sleep. Eighteen hours spent fumbling
for job, food, later keys to the heavy
grilled door. Somewhere, contentment
rots like the handicapped's art in a drawer.
I dial the PIN to the wall safe, inspect
its contents of expendables. Somewhere
a mouse squeaks above the silent
church of my house, then above the
soft Chopin I stereo on to drown
the silence. I note its simple cares:
a crumb dropped from last supper's
crackers. Lord Jesus smiles
on a wall: Seek and ye shall find.
Beneath, a cousin's doodling handiwork:
Nature Provides.
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