1

the man sits on the wheelchair
like only he knows it is really a throne
BCH IMAGING
it screams from the back
two bronze doe eyed girls sit
cackling like cockatoos/giggling
they cater to him
they speak of flavored coffees
and twirling straws
twirling their hair impulsively
and the complexities of summer
and frivolous things
they laugh easy and complete
but he doesnt laugh at all
he sits stony and quiet
though i think he must be happy
perhaps i am just happy for him
having a bit of insight into myself
perhaps he is their father
perhaps he is just an old poet
a thief of contradictions
some others some
where considered forgotten
or not