Passing water

He sat on the curb his head in his hands. He appeared to be looking at the slow-moving stream of water moving down the street gutters. In the shelter of a doorway I smoked a cigarette and for some reason was fixated on this person of the streets. He didn’t move from his position but then where did he have to go?” At least out of the rain” I thought to myself. He lifted his head from within his hands and looked towards the heavens. Opening his mouth, he drank gods tears and smiled as if to say thank-you for the drink.

Here I was out of the downpour fearing I would ruin my expensive shoes and he wore none. At that moment, I realized just how blind I was to the human spirit and the sometimes “clouded” minds of those walking right next to us on every street in every city and town. I went into a store and bought a pair of sneakers that I gave to the man. He looked up and smiled for a moment then went back to looking at the passing water.

There was nothing left to do or be said it was just a “moment” and it made me feel like I had made a sort of “contact” with a mind that had long since been ignored and waved off. I hope the sneakers fit.