Contemplation

And strolled off he, into the night, on the weary street
splattered the rain against his face,
a little stream with another in race
off the edge of his chin, like neighbours who never meet.

A startled stray did bark his heart, the watchman gazed in suspense,
with pocketed hands, and lowered eyes,
deaf to the night's creatures cries,
walked on he, quiet, silent,along the wooden fence.

And then he took the sidewalk, for water pooled the road,
muddy rapids and whirlpools in sight,
hazy reflection of the clear street light,
a funny amalgamation that nature of man bestowed.

Avoided could have he the demons he fend,
and stay put through the pour,
contained that foot inside the door,
but for the drive to straighten the bend.

And till the static and the living blended,
all became one, for he lost the score,
he desired but a few steps more,
return had he to, for the sidewalk had ended