Job

My heart is heavy thinking of Job.
All the Jobs of the world
We concern ourselves with such trivia. – like our shoes match our clothes
Oh, my fingernail broke
I, as much as anyone, focus on me too. But give me Job to remember.
The gift he gave me.
Job a small boy with sad eyes and curly lashes.
One doctor to another: a line of pills each day.
His smiles, few and precious
Is there another in there?
What is best for Job? Talking heads – the truth?
HIV/TB the terrible twins…. Where is his childhood? The smiles.

I will try Deborah. May God help me