Words, II

Words.

A barrage of letters,

all connected

into dainty necklaces

that manage to deliver

agonizing news.

A thud against his barrel chest,

like the newspaper

thwacks

against the cement stoop

in the darkness

of the morning hours.

I watch as he cracks open

from top to bottom

down his sternum,

and then

side to side.

A large ravine stares at me,

dares me to do something,

to fix him and his broken body.

But I realize that

there's nothing 

that will help him now.

That words

will never be enough

to mend the gaping hole.

But that's all I have now

to offer him,

and all he can trust.

He hopes to unjumble the letters

and weave together

a blanket of words

that relieve and soothe and heal.

Words that tell a story.

 

Photos found at http://www.mnn.com/lifestyle/arts-culture/stories/why-your-brain-can-read-jumbled-letters; http://news.discovery.com/earth/odd-cause-of-gaping-siberian-holes-possibly-found-140731.htm; Pixabay