Peeks Through Clouds

An effort to brighten darkness with gentle humor and loving truth... a desire to discern both love and truth more and more clearly when I gaze toward Glory... and a spirit-name, properly descriptive, unrequested but received, my own.

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Saturday, October 18, 2008

Stump Broke

He tells me don’t call him sir
with his tangled red beard
his camo jacket
his grimy handshake

He rolls alone to the river
with his spare-change sandwich
his fire in a bottle
his so-called peace

He thinks he’s no kind of hero
with his wine-scented smile
his missing legs
his shattered courage