Poetry

The Sad Man
by Nathan Herkimer

The sad man walked down the walk
skipping over the cracks, his ritual
He can’t see where the sidewalk ends
but it looks like it stretches past the horizon

He didn’t even see the clouds approach
rain spilled from gods cup like a rabbit from a hat
In a blink it was upon him and it would stay
while god ate his breakfast, lunch, and dinner
With drops splashing and echoing
whispering into the sad man’s ears
A RIP, A SPLIT, A TEAR
He pulled out his umbrella to shield away the pain
In an attempt to concentrate on his path, his walk
but holes let the rain through,
holes pushed his mind backward
holes created a rearview mirror
and the sad man watched the memories
the illusions of the moments past

The sad man searched his desperate mind
for friends or family that hadn’t moved forward
people that would still be like the figures in his rearview
Capable of giving him shelter and counsel
But those people had moved onward
they had kids screaming and
different rain clouds to worry about.

The sad man held his head up despite his disposition
(Feeling the water splash on his neck
like someone standing on his chest)
and looked for another distraction,
The umbrella wasn’t catching all the rain,
and the sad man had a feeling nothing really would
Rain splattered across his path, his walk
soaking his feet making it harder to move on

The sad man knew his choices
Turning back wasn’t an option
He could stop walking but it hardly seemed worth it
He could lower his head and move forward?
Crisscross with paths up-ahead is all he could hope for
paths were god hopefully wouldn’t get drunk
and let his goblet spill the rain of heartache