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.


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