Extradition

The drops of sweat trickled down
Creating a salty pool in his shirt;
They could not be stopped.

All the years spent in pursuit, in vain.
It would end soon. His mind shuffled
through ideas and half-plans.

His extended, distant (distended?) family
would never know of his courage in hopeless
despair. He was over-extended.

Down the street he walked, grim
With the urgency of his pain; he
Stumbled but could not fall.

All the fears and all the tears
Couldn't put him back together again
Could not release the captive within.

Sights and sounds buzzed around him
like a swarm of hungry locusts:
A loud horn and the grumbling of cars and trucks,
then rough hands clasp his arms and wrists.

1991