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 ---