He sat hunch-backed on the curb
Next to Pizza and Pub on Congress
His eyes looked like the Arizona summer sky,
Only they were puffy, and old, and sad.
He only looked up for a moment,
At the sound of my voice I saw surprise.
When I offered him my flat, icy cola
He grabbed it willingly, greedily,
With hardly an audible grunt
He sipped the light brown fluid
Looking down at his lap again,
And I watched, wishing I had time to talk
Imagining the story behind this Tuscon bum.
Later I saw the cup abandoned
On the curb.
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