His voice competed boldly
against sidewalk clutter and
boisterous buses hissing to abrupt stops.
His beard twisted like ocean ropes
to his chest, brushing over the top portion
of a blue or maybe green shirt; gray stained
pants and untied boots creased from roughness
completed his wardrobe.
He lifted with authority a bible, quoting verses,
pointing at people and then to the sky,
smiling broadly while releasing a slight laugh.
His eyes burned with the fire of his belief.
People avoided his space. He spoke of God
as the only path to forgiveness.
Roger Singer 