the account (1 Peter 3:13-22)

(9:17 a.m.)  while dropping off
       the kids at school, the youngest
   held on to the door handle, her backpack
         pulling her out the car, as she reminded
     me about the spring play's dress rehearsal
            later this afternoon, her voice relying
   on my answer, which came at its usual
                              rush pace,
       'if i get that report done;'

(1:33 p.m.) turning the corner
                   a little too much in a rush
           to get back the office (and the
       couch), i just about trip
              over the fellow sitting against
           the building wall, his handprinted
        sign clearly an appeal to the good
               conscience in those passing by,
          and his eyes turn hollow as i shake
                           my head from side to side,
    while pushing the handful of bills deeper
           into my pocket;

(9:59 p.m.)  as we shuffle the papers into
      neat stacks of reports showing the
          challenges we face, and we
    try to let the babeled words of
        the out-of-touch dreamers slip
                 from our consciousness,
       the group turns towards me (is it only
                     my imagination?) watching
          to hear if i might dare to assure them
               God isn't done with them yet,
   but i fall back on my meeting-ending mantra,
'any more business we need to conduct?'

at the end of
      the day, filling out the columns,
        jotting down the details,
          i wonder why they don't add up
before putting that ledger marked
           hope
    back in its place on the shelf.

(c) 2011  Thom M. Shuman