Hitching Ecclesiastes
Patrick T. Reardon
I saw David hitching out on Ecclesiastes Road
four years after the gun.
He was on the shoulder of the northbound lanes.
I was heading south.
His blond hair in back below the NY Giants cap
was black with thick dry blood.
He had a large sign, saying: “Going to hell.”
He wasn’t laughing.
He would have waved to me if he had seen me.
I’m sure.
Or maybe yelled and thrown the sign at me,
brotherly love.
Coming a year later, he was my crib twin,
screaming while I laid low.
The camera rises to a wide shot of the forest sunset,
foregrounding David and me.
My black car moves smoothly south down the ribbon road.
He stands alone in dusk.
The credits roll. His is a bit part.
Mine is played by a stunt double.
Patrick T. Reardon
4.22.26
This poem initially appeared in my book Darkness on the Face of the Deep (Kelsay Book, 2021)
Written by : Patrick T. Reardon
For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.