Entry 125

A man called Breeze.
Homeless addict,
Aged: 63.

Hand rolled cigarette
And trash filled shopping cart. 
Parked at a bench 
Outside the library.

We spoke with ease.

Shared my last joint and
Listened to his fractured 
Story. Technology. Weather.
Marijuana. Methamphetamine.
Heroin. Alcohol. Cocaine.
Bullet point presentation
On the foreign origins of his heroin. 
All topics 
Of our discussion.

Our fist bump departure felt natural, 
More so than when we had met 
And exchanged courtesies. 
His voice
Rang 
“Jacob” with ease. 
Familiar soul to the ancient name.

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