Sobriety


He didn't look like Satan.
Casually dressed, seated opposite,
across the booth in the diner,
he flashed the Rorschach-like cards before me,
passing time with my innocent responses;
the reality of it all simply eluded me.
God's nudge,
more like a stinging finger-thump upon a frozen ear,
jolted me awake, mid-sentence.
At once, inexplicably, he,
folding his hand, released the images;
falling akimbo across the table,
some bounced to the floor
and abruptly
the chit-chat ended.

Copyright (c) 2005 Gary Brown