Guilt I feel

Sitting on the curb,

Ass half in the flower bed,

Night is coming.

Buries his face in his hands,

Knees bent, army surplus cap.

Crying? Lost? Drunk?

The people pass him by,

My favorite fruit shop, on the way.

And I saw him there,

In the darkening.

In this moment he was having,

Whatever it was.

I saw and just walked away.