many long walks
slow but sharp turns
the big man
entered the church with his head down
the little fellow on the shoulder
stopped giggling
there were blood stains
and wild whispers
the eyes looked up
it was hard to say
who looked bigger - the roof or the chair?
altitude
was incomprehensible
emotion was
well, dried
folded papers and torn wallet
that's all was left
where did he come from
where was he to go
whispers got louder
eyes closed
the last i saw
the kid was giggling
i am not there
yet, i am there
it is a paradox
- and, it is not.