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