The other day, I saw a man walking on the sidewalk
edging a busy street. Cars zooming past in a 35,
everyone rushing to beat the traffic,
hurry up hurry up, can’t be late for the red light.
So many people on this path:
pedestrians at the crosswalk; travelers at the bus stop;
neighborhood loiterers doing god knows what.
Slowed down to get a closer look
and see he’s eerily still.
Should I stop, just in case he’s ill?
That’s when I notice
his clothes: soiled,
his hair: matted,
Other pedestrians avoid him.
I keep driving
and a quiet guilt begins to gnaw.