He comes to my door

With his bag and his disdain

Peddling cures to make me:

Happier, easier, livelier

In my home he sits

Displaying the vials, the tablets

Opening a tome to teach

Me, like a school child,

About what’s wrong with

Me, and how to fix the sadness

I take a tablet from his hand,

Tremble in the worry,

And place it in my mouth

Where it dissolves

Into

…

Happiness

I stand and shake his hand

Watching from the window

A wide smile

As he strides next door

Doing the same for my neighbor

As he did for me

What a man of miracles