The Burning Bush - The Poem

sneaking into a dumpster
looking for yesterdays scraps
it's a matter of survival
food not found
but... a treasure awaits
beer for this alcoholic

pop the lid... raised the bottle
withdrawals... cold sweats
hell will shortly disappear
the aroma fills the air
approaching the lips
then... then time froze

behind the dumpster
a white... light... warm figure
palm's facing out
tears flowing from it
words flowed into the mind
"please no more"

bottle falling from hands
recovery started... glass smashing