Image: provided by Patricia’s Place
Jack walked the streets at three
until a resounding boom of wheels in ruts
would send him marching ramrod home,
on fireworks night he would take cover
waiting for the shells to rain down.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Note: I observed “Jack” many times but never got to know him, in one week he never got to the shops because the trucks would sound explosive when they hit a rut or drain cover and he would stop, stand to attention, wheel about, and march home again. Shell shock/PTSD had wrecked him.