It was a dreary afternoon in the city,
rain drenched my overcoat
as I turned a corner
and collided with a tightly woven couple
shielded by a red umbrella.
I apologized, but they didn’t notice.

They just walked on by.

Ahead, under a no parking sign
an older man hovered in a cardboard box,
like a crab too big for its shell.
His thinning hair whipped by the icy wind.

I watched him scrape food
from an aluminum can
with grimy fingers,
licking it clean.
For a moment, my heart sank.

He yanked his tattered jacket close and sighed.
The wrinkles in his forehead scrunch tight
forcing his entire face into a frown.

Then I, too, just walked on by.