Just Another Morning

I see him there just in time

Just in time to stop a few feet short

Lying there in front of the parking bumper

Of the space into which I just pulled.

He is on his side

On his side in the fetal position

His face turned just his face toward the morning sun

Smiling slightly in the warmth of it all.

The sun glints on the beard brown not gray

Small round wire frames against smooth skin

A hat a plaid flannel shirt clean jeans

And I walk away and into the store.

I eavesdrop as I get a drink to go

He was there when she opened this morning

Sleeping where he lay now by my car

A dozen others listen pay comment go.

She had checked on him shook him

Unable to wake him she called the police

That was nearly three hours ago

No sign of them and still he lies there.

Asleep passed out unconscious

In need of medical attention no one knows

And then the siren approaching

The fire truck pulling up beside my car.

Out I walk drink in hand just another morning

But I stop and watch them do their job

Needing to know that it is not a medical situation

That the man I almost hit is not sick injured dead.

Wake up they yell a few feet away

Then wake up wake up with clapping near his face

Wake up or we’ll take you to the hospital

He stirs sits squints considers his surroundings.

I walk away and into my car start my engine

My engine which is too loud near this man this human

Who I almost didn’t see in time and then

Then I drive to work just another morning.

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. New York Cliche
    Sep 18, 2013 @ 08:01:40

    What a strange experience, thanks for sharing. I love how vividly you captured this and the poetic nature of this bizarre yet still routine morning.


    • Randee
      Sep 18, 2013 @ 08:47:22

      Yes, it felt strange to just walk off at first and not do anything, but somehow I knew I wasn’t the first to find him and that I wasn’t qualified to help him anyway. I’m glad he woke up and that they got him moving.


  2. Beverly Horyza
    Sep 18, 2013 @ 13:15:18

    Do you remember the day our family was driving home from Jackson Lake (probably 1976 or ’77) when I made your dad pull over (with the boat) just as we were climbing up Togwotee after Hatchet Resort? He was so frustrated at my insistance, but I knew I had seen a “dead body” along the creek bed — a body in jeans and a brown plaid shirt, lying face down. Well, sure enough — a young man was down there. Your dad, gun drawn, skidded down the embankment to investigate. It took him forever to rouse that guy, too. Once he had him on his feet, the chap admitted to partying the night before. He said his friends dumped him at the creek. Some friends. Your 7-Eleven experience reminded me of that day so long ago. Well done, Randee Dell.

    Date: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 05:07:11 +0000 To: beverly_horyza@live.com


    • Randee
      Sep 18, 2013 @ 17:21:59

      I remember that incident quite clearly. I see that man, still, with his face in the water, so my memory is that he had to be dead. Dead before he got there or at least drowned by that point.

      Thanks for reading and commenting. Yours are usually the most fun to read!


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