By Robert Kyllonen

Today write a letter for Tad.
He fills my office, round bulk and wheel chair
Cherubic face beard and cheeks like Santa.
Both born in the year of the rabbit,
We are together in rest and rehab.
Someone punched out
His missing two front teeth, “A long time ago”.
He wants to write a letter to the President,
His left hand curled by a long ago stroke
He states a little too loudly
“I have been here a long time. Um”
“I want an electric wheel chair. Um”
“I have been here a long time. Um”
“I want you to find me a new home. Um”
“I want to be with my mom and dad.”
Writing neatly, adding to his words.
Politically correct today we say
Developmentally disabled
He doesn’t belong here.
His size restricts him, like a jolly Santa
No place else will take him
“Um, I talk to God. I pray.”
“I ask how I get out of this chair. Um”
“I want to walk. Um”
“Mr. President, make somebody make me walk? Um.”

The pen adds to his plea
Ten years in that chair.
A stroke put him there.
He is obese, requires a lift
He has no money, Mr. President
He believes in you, and me, and God.
“I have been here a long time. Um.”
He recites, he so wants to belong.
“I have two brothers. Um.”
“I have two sisters. Um.”
“I have two cousins. Um.”
“I want to be with my mom and dad. Um.”
“Why can’t I be with them? Um.”
Adding to his tale, for people like him,
Mr. President we need more homes,
“I have been here a long time. Um.”
“Can I be in heaven with my mom and dad?”