Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I saw him the first time walking the other way He was a lightly singed darkish-skinned man with a tight face A rope of a body without hint of it being a weary day And I wondered if what I saw was true He looked so out of place He wore an Indian headdress and not much else It couldn’t have been any more perfect Him walking East and me driving West I knew it would be different later when the sun set I want to ask him if I was describing someone he knew But maybe I’m better off wondering The rituals of the past must be adorned each day He walks holy ground upon the concrete of our disgrace There is no haste or urgency for him to change his way And I wondered if what I saw was true He looked so out of place He wore the look of a riverbed starving for ice that melts His face was matted by tears tired of regret But his feet never knew the meaning of rest No matter how high in the hot red sky the sun would get I want to ask him if I was describing someone he knew But maybe I’m better off wondering
0
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Better Off Wondering
I saw him the first time walking the other way He was a lightly singed darkish-skinned man with a tight face A rope of a body without hint of it being a weary day And I wondered if what I saw was true He looked so out of place He wore an Indian headdress and not much else It couldn’t have been any more perfect Him walking East and me driving West I knew it would be different later when the sun set I want to ask him if I was describing someone he knew But maybe I’m better off wondering The rituals of the past must be adorned each day He walks holy ground upon the concrete of our disgrace There is no haste or urgency for him to change his way And I wondered if what I saw was true He looked so out of place He wore the look of a riverbed starving for ice that melts His face was matted by tears tired of regret But his feet never knew the meaning of rest No matter how high in the hot red sky the sun would get I want to ask him if I was describing someone he knew But maybe I’m better off wondering
This is about someone I see walking all over Austin. I don't think he's homeless though. More of a man from a bygone era. Maybe poor but dignified. He does his thing...
mark-lecuona
Written by
American
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem