he meant no harm

you get the call.

your man jake is gone.
he's finally let go of the wheel.

there is sadness, grief, sorrow,
but a strange
feeling
of relief too.

life was hard for him, each
day
a struggle
with addictions, broken
dreams, promises
unkept. always
on the move.

shelters, the woods, a couch.
a friend's
shed
to lay his things, rest
his head.

every soup kitchen knew him.

I see him now in old town,
at the fountain,
cigarette hanging from his lips,

combing his long hair
in the summer sun,

a pocket full of cash
from a days work,

checking out the women
as they walk
by, ignoring his whistles
and cat calls.

he meant no harm.