Sunday, December 15, 2019

Diogenes in Washington

Dirty wet snow soaks a garment, once white,
Tossed in a gutter with loose bundled sticks,
But minuscule movements near out of sight,
And whispered sighs, my attention affix.
A flickering lamp lay tossed in the snow,
Guttering flame near a sputtering death,
Illuminates a face that I know:
Wrenched in agony and gasping for breath.
A weathered old visage and ice cold eyes,
Focused on my worried, terrified face.
His withered hand grabbed me, to my surprise
He whispered a message of truth and grace.
“I tried to find someone that nobody can:
An ethical, honest politician…”

Mick McKellar
December 2019

The search continues...


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