lenten journal: credits

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    sit long enough in the dark
    of the theater, and the credits will
    roll down far enough to name

    man on corner

    who was only on camera for a
    moment, or perhaps a line,
    moving the tale from here to there

    there was one in my story today

    he stood in the dark on ninth street
    waiting for the light to change;
    I drove past and we waved

    OK – it was the guy head bob thing

    and I came home to find
    my wife and stereo schnauzers
    and promises to keep

    and he walked out of my story

    and on into the night,
    and the darkness that tells his
    story, of which one credit reads

    man in jeep.

    Peace,
    Milton

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