henry

when he got out
of jail.
he'd sniff glue.
drink
mouth wash.
he'd do everything
but take
the needle again.
at least for a while.
he was staying
clean as he
broke into houses
and walked down
the road with
a shopping cart
sellling his newly
stolen wares.
you'd see him
over the hill
in the moonlight,
his hair shining
across his shoulders.
walking up
the same street
you'd seen him
walk before, when
you were kids
and he was coming
to play ball
with you.