Many years ago I worked with a client who was returning to the community after serving some time in jail. I have never gotten his story out of my head and I have finally been able to put into words my perspective of his story.
SEVEN
seven years clean
he's made himself a life
successful paramedic
he volunteers to help clear wreckage
from the broken New York towers
he loosens
he digs
he lifts
he carries
those challenging chunks of concrete
those twisted beams of steel
he breathes in fine poisonous powders
he coughs up blood but must continue
he must continue digging
keeps digging
he sees a hand thrust out between the ruins
he scrambles over rubble
he hears her muffled cry
his hand outstretched as far as possible
Reaches to touch one finger ---
He calls for help
They are too late
She slips away
Away...
seven bags of heroin
seven holes in his arm
and seven in his legs
and seven years imprisoned
behind the wall ---
and forever imprisoned
inside his mind ---