sidewalk dance

with his hands shoved firmly
in his pockets, he
kicked the curb as
he walked along.
desperate,
feeling
the need again.
it was a drug.
the want, coupling
with the ill effects of
life, tossed down,
trampled.
a little lost in it all.
it began to drizzle.
the wet felt good on
his face.
a lasting impression.
that's all he ever wanted.
just something to take hold,
something to give
a little something back.
was it too much to ask?
it was always too much to ask.
he pulled his hoodie up over his head
and bent his eyes up toward
the sky.
the miserable, gray sky,
dripping, spitting, gnawing.
he formed a word with his lips,
but didn't dare speak it.
not that word. not now.
a bus sped past. a mist of puddle
drifted up over the sidewalk.
he felt the rush of air, and then the bus was gone
into the morning haze.
he wiped at his face,
wishing it would smear away.
his jaw clenched
and he moved on
in that misty morning
air that
couldn't
be bothered
to care.
he searched for a meaning,
but
no meaning
was there.