Jesus on a Harley

for Mike Terry

“Don!”
One eye open
then jerk up
right in bed.

5:30 a.m., the light
halogen through
window slats.

“Don!”
I roll out,
in boxers,
blue Orlando Magic
t-shirt. What the…

“Don!”
OK.  Lifting louvers,
peek
a careful inch.

It’s really him
again.

Dropping back
I turn unsteady.
In the kitchen
aroma of
yesterday’s bacon.

Eyes back inward,
see the desk with
last night’s candle
burned, the book
opened flat to
Lazerus, the weeping,
and I …

“Don!”
Now the revving
blappity – blap – blap
louder as I sneak
back two fingers,
eyes a slit.
He’s still there …

“Don! Are you
going riding
with me today
or not?”

Don Cadwallader

Published in
Time of Singing–A Magazine of Christian Poetry (Summer 2012)
www.timeofsinging.com

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