Memories of Snow

Walking Dead Man

S

Walking Dead Man

Clutching
a dirty white wool blanket,
he stood
on the corner of Charleston Boulevard
and Rancho Drive.

The light in the traffic signal
on Rancho
climbed from green
to yellow.

Eyes inexpressive,
he stood motionless
as the traffic light
climbed to red.

Stepping into the path of traffic,
he ambled across
the east bound lane of Charleston Boulevard
his progress applauded
by squealing brakes,
honking horns,
and cursing drivers.

Stepping
onto the concrete medium,
he stopped
as the light on Charleston
climbed from green,
to yellow,
to red.

Eyes focused
on a nonexistent point in time and space,
he stood motionless,
as the cars on Rancho whizzed past.

The light on Rancho
climbed from green,
to yellow,
to red.

Stepping into the path of traffic
he sauntered
across the west bound lane of Charleston
applauded by cursing drivers,
honking horns,
and squealing brakes.

Clutching the dirty blanket,
as if it were his life,
he stood motionless
on the corner of Rancho Drive
and Charleston Boulevard
waiting for the light to change.

Poet's Note: ▼

I wrote this on 1 Jamal 154 B.E. It was inspired by a homeless man I saw corssing the street as I drove west on Charleston Blvd.