with Reka Jellema
Find him
on the wide
church lawns
in mid-pantomime
unshoed
unshaven
a marionette
in monolog
fingers wide
and splayed
as wheel spoke
find him
by the bowl
of steaming soup
the simplicity
of potatoes cubed
and bubbling in
milk, the one
with wilderness eyes
and desert soles
he sees and knows
find him
in the creases
of her hands
where some still say
they see a path
Written with Reka Jellema
© Brendan Bonsack & Reka Jellema
November 2014