Daly missive for Friday the 16th of November.~by Peter Forster

 

 

Daly missive for Friday the 16th of November.

There was a smell
Eye watering
Inconvenient incontinence
Stale sweat
Soiled clothes
Stuck together with
Overlapping stains
Everything hung
His trousers were
At half mast
As if he could
Just shrug
And leave them empty
He held out a cup
I was caught
Captured by his gaze
A burning fire
Raging
From deep within
The darkness of
A shrunken face
Surrounded by a mane
Of wire brush hair
Red rimmed eyes ablaze
The tin cup chinked
A coin offered
Gifts gratefully received
He muttered
Reaching out a clawed hand
Taloned fingers
Dirt encrusted
Broken skin hot with fever
You have knowledge
I heard him say
But it is as nothing
Without the wisdom
Of understanding
How did he know
What was his story
What was mine?